The Will of the Wands
by Siaryst-Dufoli
Summary: As Harry prepares for the second war against Voldemort, four unique first years begin their journey at Hogwarts. Little do they know that they will play a crucial role in the impending battle. Cowritten with the brilliant AmberVoice.ON HAITUS INDEFINITELY
1. The Alliance

**The Will of the Wands**

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**Disclaimer:** **Sorry to disappoint you-** but unfortunately for us, we do not own Harry Potter. **But alas! We do own your reviews!** And our own ideas (sniff, sniff), but we'll just have to get over that. -Siaryst & Dufoli

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**Chapter 1 – The Alliance**

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Three days into the second summer holiday for the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in which Lord Voldemort had returned, the headmaster had already stepped into action, preparing for the battle that lie ahead, crouching across the path like a lion surveying it's prey. The first thing he had managed to do was wrangle a meeting with the stubborn Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

* * *

"And as I was saying, Minister," Albus Dumbledore smiled politely, "if the wizarding world has grasped that Lord Voldemort is indeed back to power, we should discuss taking the proper precautions."

"And what do you think those would be?" Cornelius Fudge, a short, blustering man, stammered. He twirled his bowler hat in his hand as he stirred his tea nervously with the other. Apparently, he did not like the sound of Dumbledore's proposal at all.

"Well, I think an alliance between wizarding schools would suffice, for starters." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he drummed his long fingertips on his ancient desk.

"Oh, you do, do you?" asked Fudge. He gulped a bit of his tea. "I suppose that would do, but I will have to take it up with the Wizengamot, you know." Dumbledore nodded. "If that's it, Albus, then I do believe that I must be going. I will inform you when the meeting is arranged. Good day." The portly man thanked Dumbledore for the tea, and swished out of the office, robes askew.

"I do not think he is taking us very seriously, do you, Fawkes?" The white-haired man stared at a scarlet bird perched on a limb attached to the edge of the desk. The bird hooted softly in reply. "No, I didn't think so."

* * *

One week later, the same men met in a dingy old courtroom many stories underground, surrounded by stone benches filled with various witches and wizards. Seated on the bench above the podium where the man called Albus Dumbledore stood were about fifty witches and wizards all wearing plum robes that bore a silver W on the chest. They peered down at him as he began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot," Dumbledore began, "I would like to open a discussion centering on forming an alliance between several other wizarding schools and Hogwarts. I believe that the coming months in which Lord Voldemort will most likely begin devising his plans of attack will be extremely crucial if we want to unite against him. The beginning lies with the schools. Our children are important- they will carry on our laws, our way of life. I ask if I could initiate an alliance with several educational wizarding establishments."

"This alliance will be made between the schools you have listed here?" asked a small, grey-haired wizard on the high bench.

"I do believe I have listed them all, but if you would be so kind as to read them off, to make sure." Dumbledore bowed politely to the bespectacled wizard, who had raised his eyebrows.

"Very well." He cleared his throat. "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, ask the High Court of the Wizengamot to put to the vote whether or not an alliance could possibly be made between Hogwarts and the following list of schools, their locations, and reigning headmasters/headmistresses;

Beauxbatons Academy, France, Madame Olympe Maxime

Durmstrang Institute, Finland, Sir Geoffrey Harmon

Coblenz Schule of Magics, Germany, Professor Judith McGonagall

Milan Scuola di Magica for Bambinos, Italy, Professor Peter Brannon

Alfheim Academy of Magic, Norway, Professor Nichole Jensen."

"Very well, Dumbledore, that seems well in order. The vote really isn't necessary. Carry on with your alliance," the wizard on the high bench muttered.

Instead of accepting the grant, Dumbledore began to speak again. "Actually, I have received an owl from another school that wishes to join the alliance. One, I believe, from the United States."

There was a flurry of conversation in the courtroom until the bespectacled wizard sent up red sparks with a puff of smoke and a sound like a cannon with his wand.

"Silence!" he roared. "Albus, you want to add a school from the United States?"

"I would very much like to, Chief." Dumbledore bowed.

"And, er, how are you prepared to deal with the prospect of this school being the only one outside of Europe?" the wizard asked grimly. He looked as though he thought he was cornering Dumbledore by asking him this question, and that he wouldn't have any ideas as to how to deal with it. He was wrong.

"I suppose there will have to be representatives from this school stationed at Hogwarts, which will be the headquarters, naturally. There are no other schools in the United States who wish to join us- they all believe, as I feared, that Voldemort has not risen again, and are no threat to our world."

"And the name of the school?" the wizard inquired.

"Oh, yes, thank you." Dumbledore raised his wand and flicked it. In shimmering gold letters, words formed in midair.

_Manhattan__ School of Magic, New York, Governess Jennifer McCarthy_

"Very well, Dumbledore. You may carry on with your alliance. This meeting is adjourned."

* * *

"So we may begin with the alliance, then?" Minerva McGonagall asked over the rim of her goblet.

"Yes indeed, Minerva. Send owls straight away to the other schools. I daresay we shall need a name for this alliance, and also a representative teacher and student from the Manhattan School of Magic as well." Dumbledore said thoughtfully, stirring his carrots around on his plate.

"Very well, Headmaster."

Exactly two weeks and four days later, after much consultation and debating, the Will of the Wands was made between the seven schools of magic.

* * *

Millie stumbled onto the granite walkway of Platform 9 3/4. She quickly scooped up her black trunk in one hand and her small owl in the other, narrowly missing being run over by her two older brothers, who were charging through the gateway.

"Millie!" She turned, brushing her thick brown hair out of the way, to see her neighbor, Dakota, run towards her, eyes eager. "Oh my gosh, Mill, I'm soooo excited to go to Hogwarts! It'll be so much fun!" The girl wrapped Millie in an awkward hug, squashing the flustered owl between them. Poor Snowflake squawked loudly, beating her wings and thrashing against her owner's grip. Startled, Millie stepped back, into a tall 6th year boy.

"Oh, sorry." Millie mumbled, looking down at her jeans as her face flooded with color. Dakota, however, was staring unabashedly at the boy's face. Suddenly she shrieked and seized the startled stranger's hand.

"You're Harry Potter! Oh my goodness! I can't believe I finally met you! I've even read about you on the Internet! You're the most famous-"

Millie looked away, ashamed, as her friend gushed on, pumping Harry's hand energetically. Harry, however, was looking like he would rather get run over by the scarlet Hogwarts Express than stand and listen to a first year rattle off his credentials.

"Um, yeah, ok. Gotta go." He quickly dove into the throng of people worming into the train, and Dakota went into a blissful silence for a whole thirty seconds.

"I think he likes me, Millie, don't you? I can't believe it! I wonder when he's gonna ask me out. I mean, really, did you see the way he looked-"

"Dakota?" Millie broke in. "Hello? Dakota? Please. Be. Quiet."

A thoughtful silence ensued, lasting a record amount of time for her friend, which meant about one and a half minutes.

"No, but seriously. He actually spoke to me. Seriously. Don't you think he's cute? I think if I were his-"

"Shut up, Dakota." Millie grumbled, weaving through the press of people and onto the train. Her face was still hot from the encounter. Harry would most likely make a point to never even _look_ at her again; much less even speak to her, in fear that Dakota might be lurking nearby, ready for his autograph.

Inside, the train felt crisp and cold, unlike the head swimming fumes of exhaust and grease on the platform. Settling comfortably into one of the seats, she turned to the window, watching the other side of the station for a while. Suddenly she heard someone enter the car. Turning slightly, Millie blinked. There sitting at the far end of the bench was another girl her age. She was clutching a suitcase plastered with bumper stickers reading things like 'American Pride', 'Phantom of the Opera', 'God Bless the USA', 'Aerosmith Tour 2003', and 'Support the Red White and Blue!' As if this wasn't revealing enough, her shirt was from company called Old Navy, an American flag plastered across the front.

_'Hmmmm,'_ Millie thought to herself. _'I wonder what an American is doing here.'_

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Dakota tossed her dark braids impatiently. "Come on, Mum! We've got to go, you said so yourself! Come on, I have to talk to Millie. Oh, I hope we're in the same house! Do you think Millie has already left? Do we have to be there early?"

It was September first. Dakota Williams, like her sisters Kennedy and Riley before her, was finally going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She wouldn't be totally alone in the journey, either. Her neighbor and all-around best friend Millie was going as well.

"I don't think Millie is badgering _her _parents to take her to King's Cross this early. Why don't we Floo to Diagon Alley and browse around until your train leaves?" Mrs. Williams breezed into her youngest daughter's bedroom, which was plastered with posters of a blazing orange labeled _The Chudley Cannons. _"Sweetheart, don't you think it's a bit bright to have all of these hanging up in here?" She stared at the posters in distaste.

"No, Mum. I like Quidditch," Dakota said happily, jumping on her bed. She hopped around chanting, 'I'm going to Hogwarts, I'm going to Hogwarts!' Her tightly braided hair flopped on every bounce. In the corner, her ferret squeaked.

"But Dakota, wouldn't you like a nice picture of some flowers or something? Kennedy has an aquarium theme. Wouldn't that be darling in here? Especially with the big windows? Or, you could use Riley's horse pictures she used to have in her room, now that she's decided to go classical. Speaking of which, that piano needs tuning." Mrs. Williams looked at her youngest daughter and shook her head. Where had she gone wrong?

"Nope, I like Quidditch!" Dakota sprang from the bed. "Is Dad coming shopping with us? Maybe he'll show me the broom he used to have! He always said that they had them in a museum!" She laughed at the thought as she landed neatly on the floor.

"No, your father has business to take care of. He's an important man." She pulled Dakota over to where she was sitting in the window. "Now, do you want to wear your hair down or leave the braids?"

"Um, what do you think? Which one will go better with my new Hogwarts robes?" At the moment, Dakota was wearing the Muggle clothes she preferred; cargo khakis, a blue short-sleeved shirt, and Nike shoes.

"I think the braids would look cute. But your sisters had their hair down when we took their picture in the hall before leaving," her mother said.

"Braids it is!" Dakota announced. Mrs. Williams groaned inwardly.

"Whatever you want, Pumpkin. Now, do you hear that? I think Diagon Alley is calling to us," she said, cupping her ear.

"Come on! Let's go!" Dakota jumped up, pulling her mother with her. They stampeded down the stairs to the marble fireplace in the front hall of their manor, in which her father's business partners often came through at different intervals.

"One pinch, that's all we need...do you want to go first?" Dakota took the grains of powder from her mother's outstretched palm.

"Diagon Alley!" she shouted. With a blaze of green flames, the eleven year old vanished.

As soon as Mrs. Williams had joined her daughter, they set off hand in hand down the cobblestone street. After browsing around in Apothecary and Flourish and Blotts, it was well past ten-thirty. Mrs. Williams told Dakota that it was time to catch the next fire to King's Cross.

As she pushed the trolley towards Platform 9 3/4, Dakota heard the unmistakable voices of her sisters. She grumbled inwardly. They always had to come along and ruin whatever she had going for her. She remembered how it was when they went to Hogwarts. One year she'd been constantly in trouble for being 'rowdy and inattentive'. When end-of-the-year marks were sent home, her parents were so proud of her! Dakota had been in all her glory. Until Kennedy and Riley came home the next day.

She glowered at the memory. Her parents had gushed over her sisters for weeks afterward. Riley had gotten eleven OWLs and Kennedy had been chosen as the next Head Girl. What dim spotlight had shone on Dakota momentarily had been wrenched away from her.

Dakota took a deep breath and glanced behind her. Her sister Riley was showing off her new haircut, which had changed the long flowing hair that Dakota loved to a short, spiky bob. Her mother seemed to love it. Go figure, Dakota thought bitterly. She couldn't wait to get away from them.

"Oh, Riley, it looks so sweet!" Mrs. Williams was beside herself with glee. It was true- the short hair accentuated her middle daughter's lean figure, and with the dark hair and tan skin they'd inherited from her Sri Lankan upbringing, she looked stunning. But that was to be expected- Riley had always been the smart dresser.

"You think? I thought it'd contrast the boring outfits I have to wear for Ministry recitals nicely," Riley said coolly. She hated dressing up, unless she could wear whatever she wanted. Right now, she was wearing black jeans and a Weird Sisters concert shirt.

"I told her Father wouldn't be pleased," said Kennedy, whose long hair was pulled back into a professional french braid. "You know how he likes for us to look good."

"Your father will be fine with this. I thought he'd have kittens when Riley came home with the beadwork," their mother replied. Dakota smirked. Yes, that had been a sight. Her father had taken one look at Riley's hair and then treated the family to a nice long rant about how he was a respected member of the wizarding community, and his family was supposed to support him and reflect their stature. Glancing at her wristwatch, Dakota nearly fainted. It was five minutes to eleven!

"Mum!" She stared at her mother. She was lost in conversation with her older daughters about something- probably about how completely darling they could make my bedroom look while I'm at school, Dakota thought.

"Mum, we've gotta go, the train leaves in five minutes!" Mrs. Williams looked up. A dawning look of comprehension spread across her gentle face.

"Oh, yes, you're right. Why don't you go along and find Millie, there's a good girl! We'll be there in a minute, popkin."

Not waiting for her mother, Dakota ran at the barrier separating the Muggle platforms and the Hogwarts platform. She looked in awe at the Hogwarts Express. It was even bigger than she remembered it when she saw her sisters off.

After a brief encounter with Millie and the famous Harry Potter, Dakota loaded her things on the train and stood on the step, waiting for her mother. She didn't come. The whistle blew, signaling the one-minute-warning. She sighed, and picked up her shoulder bag and her pet ferret's cage, and went to find a compartment.

She found an empty one, with large seat cushions the color of bluebells. She threw her things down beside her, and stared out the window facing the barrier. Perhaps her mother would wave or something. Slowly the train pulled out of the station, and Dakota looked down at her ferret sadly.

"Oh, Tava, why didn't she come to say goodbye?" The black animal didn't reply, but slunk out of his cage and curled up in her lap. Dakota stroked his fur mindlessly, watching the country scenery take the place of the platform she had once loved.


	2. Platform Nine and Three Quarters

**The Will of the Wands**

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**Chapter 2 – Platform Nine and Three Quarters**

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While Dakota was suffering a trip down memory lane, Madison Reed was finding it hard to say goodbye to her insufferable twin siblings. Her younger brother Lincoln was putting up a huge fuss about having to hold Madison's owl, Hobbes. Meanwhile, her sister Taylor was complaining about the identical outfits their mother made them wear.

"But they look great on you two! Like peas in a pod," their mother had said at their home in Coney Island.

"I don't like them," the four-year old said shrilly. She tugged at a wayward blonde pigtail as she looked down at her overall dress in distaste.

Her twin stopped rocking Madison's suitcase like a rodeo horse and looked up. "Mummy? Would we get in trouble if we said we didn't like wearing the same thing?" His blue eyes were wide under a curtain of blonde wisps.

"No, no, no," Mrs. Reed said as she checked and re-checked Madison's ticket. "Maddy, dear, do you have everything? Socks, toothbrush, underwear?"

"YES, Mum," Madison replied hastily. She looked around to make sure no one she knew heard that. '_Oh wait! I forgot, we're in freaking England! No one _I_ know is here! Duh' _She pulled an elastic from her wrist and began to put her hair up.

"Maddy, it's impolite to do your hair in public," her mother admonished. Madison groaned. '_They're annoying, but somehow, I'll miss them.'_ Mrs. Reed checked her watch, prying Lincoln from the bumper-stickered suitcase at the same time. "Maddy, it's time to go."

Madison looked down at her sister, who was standing innocently by their mother's side. She forced a smile, and stooped down. "Tay, it's up to you now to make Lincoln miserable. Can you do that?"

Taylor nodded wistfully.

"Come on, Tay. I'll owl at least once a week. I'll find things that you'd like to hear about, like pretty paintings that talk, or the teachers or something. Okay?" Madison hoped she'd not make a scene; if Taylor cried, then she would. She turned to Lincoln, who was happily batting the helicopter top of his hat around, making a soft whirring sound.

"Link, can you do me a favor? Can you pretty please play with the Harry Potter doll with Taylor when she wants to? She'll play Quidditch with you if you do." Lincoln's eyes lit up.

"Really? Wow!"

"I'll owl you, too. What do you want to know about Hogwarts?"

"I wanna hear about the bugs!" Lincoln shrieked. Madison shuddered.

"I dunno if there will be bugs. What if I tell you about the Quidditch matches I see? Hogwarts has four teams." Lincoln's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Really? Really really?"

"Really really," Madison echoed. She giggled at the thought of a green ogre grinning at a donkey, saying the same thing. However, Lincoln thought she was laughing at him.

"Maddy, don't laugh at me!" Lincoln buried his head in their mother's ankles.

"Come here, you twerp. I wasn't laughing at you, I was laughing at Shrek," Madison explained. Lincoln raised his eyebrows quizzically.

"Maddy, you'd better hurry up, you'll miss the train. Um," Mrs. Reed said, flushing, "Do you know how to get onto the platform?"

"Uh, no. Is that a problem?" Madison cringed, waiting for her mother to laugh. It didn't come.

"Well, I don't either. Um, we're in trouble now," Mrs. Reed said cheerfully. She didn't seem the least bit worried that her daughter might miss the eleven o'clock train, as it was ten-fifty.

Just then, a tall black-haired boy came jogging into view. He had black glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, and a green t-shirt. He was pushing a carriage piled with his belongings in front of him.

Little did the fretful Americans know that this was the Boy-Who-Lived himself, Harry Potter. If she'd have known who he was, Madison surely wouldn't have approached him as soon as she saw the Hogwarts crest.

"Um, excuse me," Madison spoke up. The boy looked around, and then down.

"Oh, hello?" He spoke with a light British accent, which sounded so strange to Madison, being American and all.

"Um, yeah. Sorry. I was wondering, could you show me how to get onto the platform?" She looked up at his handsome face. '_Whoa, how come all the guys on Coney couldn't look like this?'_ she thought. She mentally shook herself. '_Stupid, you're asking for directions, not admiring his face!'_

"Oh, yeah. Sure." The boy smiled awkwardly. "Have you got everything?" Madison nodded. "Well, let's go, then." He grasped her small hand in his, and began to run at the wall. '_OH MY GOD, HE'S CRAZY! WE'RE RUNNING AT THE WALL!' _She braced herself as she came closer and closer to the wall. '_Goodbye memories!'_ She waited for the crash. Again, for the second time, she didn't get what she thought was coming.__

"Here we are," the boy said cheerily. One look at Madison's shocked face told him that she was a first-year. "Oh, I'm sorry if I scared you, but that's the best way to get to the platform. Actually, it's the only way." He waved, and took off, blending in with the people milling around the train's many compartments.

Anxious to leave the platform before she was run over by more incoming people, namely a tall boy with pale skin and equally pale blond hair, she climbed aboard the train to the third compartment. She was shocked to see that another girl had already sat down at the window on the far end. Hoping to make as little noise as possible, Madison chose a seat by the door.

She sat with her suitcase in her arms, studying the girl in front of her. She seemed a bit preoccupied, and had the same thick hair that she herself had and despised so much. '_Maybe we'll be in the same house,'_ she thought feebly. Then, the girl turned around. '_Don't stare, don't stare! So what if she's a Brit?'_

* * *

Millie looked away at the green hills rushing by, and an awkward silence descended on the car. She heard the American cough slightly, and the silence continued. Suddenly the roar of rock music filled the air, making Millie jump involuntarily. Chad Kroeger's '_Hero'_ blared through a set of headphones clutched in her companion's hands, as she hastily fiddled with the dials, trying to reduce the volume.

"And they say that a hero will save us-" The American found the volume, and immediately the car fell once again into silence. Millie, who had been staring blatantly at her fellow passenger, began to turn away again, when the girl began to talk to fill the quiet.

"Oh! Sorry about that. Y'know- I like rock and yeah.... So- what's your name?"

"Uh, Millie."

"Millie. Right. I'm Madison! You're a Brit, right?"

Millie blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Y'know, you're British. Wait - that was a really dumb question. Everyone here's British. How could I ignore the accent?" Madison grinned sheepishly at her friend, who smiled hesitantly back, then posed the unsaid question.

"So you must be-"

"-an American." Maddy finished. "From Coney Island, to be exact. I'm coming to Hogwarts kind of as a foreign exchange student, sorta. I think it was some deal Dumbledore worked out or whatever. I dunno. Anyway, yeah!" She opened up her suitcase, and pulled out several bags of candy. Millie leaned forward, curious.

"What, you've never seen Bites before?" Maddy laughed, opened a bag, and tossed a few chocolate balls to Millie. "They're the peanut butter kind. I can't believe they don't have them here. Man, it's a whole different place, England is. I mean, it doesn't seem like the US and the UK would be that different, but it really is! I mean, heck! The guys here are twice as good looking!"

She glanced out the door of their car, just as a tall blonde boy strode past. Madison turned to her friend, who was eagerly eating the chocolate. "See what I mean?"

A flock of girls rushed past the carriage door as well, squawking and giggling in pursuit of the boy. Maddy sighed. "Unfortunately, so are the girls. Good grief. How will I ever get to measure up to your English chick standards?" She winked, and tossed 3 Bites in the air, catching them in her mouth with a wink.

Millie was mesmerized by this new person- funny, brassy, and over all, American! She'd never really met any Americans her age, but this one seemed all right. She motioned to Maddy's suitcase propped open on the seat.

"You sure seem patriotic enough. You really proud to be an American?" Madison grinned, and tossed four candies into the air, juggling them.

"Of course. Aren't you proud to be British?"

"I guess. I've never thought about it much. Anyway, here's the lunch cart. Here, I have my money right here- I'll treat."

They sat together, laughing and eating their lunches, as the train moved closer and closer to their destination.

* * *

Dakota woke up somewhere in the middle of the Scottish countryside to a blazing row outside her compartment door. Her eyes fluttered open to see Tava cowering behind his wire cage.

"Pansy, what do you want me to do? Ignore my father?" A deep voice shouted hysterically. Interested, Dakota peeked out the door. What she saw next made her sick to her stomach.

Draco Malfoy.

Her cousin. The one that she'd been afraid of since she was five. The one who used to curse her because he could, turning her toy broomstick into a snake to scare her, to show her who had more authority. He stood in the hall with his arms folded across his broad chest, which was covered in a black cashmere sweater. The girl standing across from him had bleached blonde hair, of which was chopped in a fashion that reminded Dakota of her sister Riley.

"I don't know Draco, the man's delusional! He's a Death Eater, for crying out loud!" The girl, who Dakota supposed was Pansy, seemed even more hysterical than Draco.

"He's my father! It is my duty, as his son, to listen to what he says. It is my duty, as a Malfoy, to obey him. If that means I will eventually become a Death Eater, so be it. I don't have to like what I am bound for, Pansy." His steely-gray eyes glittered in the shadows of the corridor.

"Are you saying that even though you think it's wrong, you'll be initiated into the Death Eater fold in two years?" Pansy's voice cracked. Her lips were dry, and her hands were shaking. Dakota was terrified that sooner or later, both would turn around and see her listening. But she was rooted to the spot.

"Yes, Pansy. I am bound to my father. I am bound to Lord Voldemort." His voice dropped. "If that bothers you, I'm sorry. I can't go against my father. Not now." Dakota's mind was reeling. '_My uncle is a Death Eater? My cousin is going to be a Death Eater?' _She could feel her knees shaking. Slowly, she slipped back onto the cushion where Tava still cowered, and buried herself in his fur.

"C'mon, Pansy. Let's sit down, there's a compartment just there, yes, that's it." He slid open the door. The girl entered first, and smoothed her dark jeans hastily, and sat down opposite Dakota.

"Hello. We're not bothering you, are we?" She smiled, revealing the perfect teeth that Dakota associated with toothpaste commercials.

She shook her head swiftly, hugging Tava closer to her chest.

Draco, who was busy sliding the door closed, had not noticed his cousin. "Pansy, who're you talking to---" he stopped. It took a minute for him to register who was sitting before him, as she had made herself scarce the past few times his family had made their annual visit to their house, with the fear that he'd turn her into a bat.

With his trademark sneer, he said, "Dakota, I see that you've retained your look of equal parts vacant and terror. Now, have we been over our nightmares of creepy-crawlies for a while?"

Dakota felt her face burn. He was, of course, referring to his last visit to her house. After their parents had insisted that they play together, Draco had immediately taken initiative to torment her by conjuring up the worst sorts of insects and spiders imaginable. For at least a month and a half, Dakota was tormented by nightmares of the various insects attacking her, as Draco had instructed them to do once he'd built up a considerable army. But now, on her way to places unknown, Dakota felt strong.

"No, I've been over them for at least a year or two. I see you've retained both your ability to make yourself feel important and the ability to look absolutely ridiculous." She folded her arms triumphantly. It seemed as though she'd struck a nerve, as Draco's normally bloodless face turned a faint pink.

"Did I just hear you attempt to insult me?_" _Draco hissed. He moved closer to her, almost dwarfing her in height.

"No, that was my insult hitting home," Dakota replied. She took Tava from behind his cage and set him in it, moving it behind her, out of her cousin's reach.

"Dakota, dear, you've just gone too far." Draco sneered. Next to him, Pansy stood with her arms crossed, smiling smugly.

"No, I think you've gone too far, Drakie." She smiled sweetly up at him, hoping her old nickname for him would throw him off for a second. Fortunately, it did.

"What did you call me?" He was livid. He turned to Pansy. "Did you hear what she called me?" Pansy nodded fearfully. Draco growled, then felt around in his pockets for his wand.

* * *

"Dakota, I think this will resume those lovely little night scares you finally got over." He turned to face Dakota, but she wasn't there.

By the time Draco and Pansy had realized she was gone, Dakota had gotten herself as far away as possible- to the other end of the train. Tava's cage thumped behind her as she glanced backward every few seconds, to make sure that they weren't following her. She slumped against the closest wall she could find; she had to catch her breath. Tava squeaked so forcefully from inside the cage Dakota wondered if he'd ever be normal again. She had just stood up with a small squeak of her own- Draco and Pansy were roaming the corridors, wands drawn. Then she ran into something extremely solid.

She glanced up and nearly choked. For the second time today, she ran into Harry Potter. He seemed to remember her, for he began to cringe. Dakota felt awful.

"I'm really sorry, but I was trying to get away from my cousin, he's after me." She blinked up at him through small tears that were beginning to fall. For a moment, she thought she saw Harry smile, but the trace vanished.

Instead, he asked, "Who's your cousin?" Dakota couldn't speak, but she pointed down the corridor. Pansy had just emerged from the girl's lavatory, holding a compact. Draco seemed to be yelling at her for going to freshen her makeup when they were supposed to be looking for Dakota.

"Malfoy's your cousin?" Harry asked incredulously. Surely he canned the sarcasm for his family...then again, he's Draco, he thought. Dakota nodded. As Draco came closer, she began to inch away. "Wait, what did you do that made him so angry?"

Dakota started from the beginning, and ended with, "...and now he's probably going to hex me into next week." She glanced over her shoulder, and nearly fainted. They had just disappeared into a compartment three doors down.

Harry smirked at Draco's retreating back. "Come with me," he said, picking up Tava's cage. He quickly led her to the end car, where he opened the door and pushed through as though he owned it.

The other occupants looked up from what they were doing with interest. There was a blonde boy and girl in the corner, carrying on a lively conversation about Herbology; a redheaded boy sitting in front of a chess board, which was currently under siege, thanks to the brown-haired girl. Another redhead, this one a girl, was watching with interest, twirling her hair offhandedly.

"Who's she?" asked the redheaded boy. His question made the girl across from him jump up and walk over to them, extending her hand.

"Hello there, I'm Hermione Granger." She offered Dakota her hand.

"I'm Dakota. Dakota Williams," Dakota said shyly. Part of her was incredibly intrigued by this group, but the better part was terrified that Draco and Pansy would follow them, like bloodhounds on the trail. More than once she'd wondered if Draco was part hound, but she'd never told anyone that.

"Malfoy's after her," Harry explained to the boy, who was called Ron. "She's his cousin."

The redhead started to curse loudly, and Dakota ducked her head. He stopped abruptly, and looked at her questioningly. "Oh, sorry." Dakota shook her head, but didn't say anything, too nervous to speak. After a few silent moments, she couldn't take it anymore.

"I hate him, too," she blurted. Realizing what she just said, she clapped her hand over her mouth while Harry and Ron laughed. "He was going to hex me and I called him..." -she looked over her shoulder worriedly- " I called him Drakie."

The boys burst into laughter. "You're kidding, right?" Harry choked. "I mean, you didn't really call him Drakie, did you?"

Dakota nodded. "Why?"

Harry shook his head. "You have got some nerve. I mean, no one in their right mind would call him Drakie."

"But I did," said Dakota. She thought for a minute. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, but I think it does mean that you'll either be a Gryffindor or a Slytherin," Ron said, chewing the head of a chocolate frog.

"I don't want to be a Slytherin. My grandfather was one." She shuddered.

"Was he a Death Eater?" Ron asked, tossing the frog back and forth. Up, down, up, down, splat! "Oops!" The frog exploded all over the front of his pants. Harry and the brown-haired girl, Hermione, started to laugh. "It's not that funny," Ron mumbled.

"H-he, he was called Grindelwald," Dakota said coldly. Her tone sparked a certain undetected emotion deep within her being. It spooked the other passengers, because it seemed as though all the light in her warm brown eyes had vanished, replacing it with a cold, tunnel-like stare. "He was a dark wizard, before Voldemort's time. Dumbledore killed him in 1945."

No one dared to speak. Then, as Hermione started to clear her throat, the handle on the door began to turn.

"It's Malfoy!" hissed Harry. He ran to his trunk and got out a silvery cloak with black stitching. "Under here, get in the corner with Luna and Neville, go on!"

Dakota vanished under the cloak just as none other than Draco Malfoy, flanked by Pansy Parkinson. His bloodless face was etched with an utmost loathing. Behind him, Pansy screwed up her face at the sight of the Gryffindors.

"Potter." Draco said silkily. He stepped into the compartment with an air that Dakota thought inappropriate to use other than in the presence of the Queen Mum herself.

"Malfoy," Harry returned, stepping forward. He glanced downward slightly, trying to avoid stepping on Dakota if he could help it. When he deemed it safe, he looked up to meet Draco's piercing stare. "I see you've been taking voice lessons from your godfather."

"Either explain yourself, Potter, or tell me, what are we planning to do to impress old Dumbledore this year?" he sneered. A thought came to mind. "Or, are you going to stop with the Mudblood-loving fool and join the Dark side?"

"You know perfectly well that I won't join you, Daddy, and the so-called Lord of yours," spat Harry. His eyes burned holes into Draco's. Shielded slightly by Luna and Neville, Dakota shivered underneath the cloak.

"And what do you mean about the voice lessons?" Draco's eyes narrowed. He hated to be clueless, especially when dealing with Potter.

"I mean that I see you've been practicing that tone of voice with your apparent godfather, Snape," Harry said.

To Dakota's untrained eye, this seemed to strike a nerve with her already hacked off cousin. For a minute, blood rushed to his abnormally pale face, signaling his anger. Then, with the same voice he had used to announce his arrival, Draco said, "Well, that's more than we can say for your godfather, isn't it?" He watched in delight as Harry clenched and unclenched his fists.

Clearly enjoying the effect, he continued, "Isn't he the one who ran away from the Dark Lord's servants while he was on the run from the Ministry of Magic, and got himself blown up by his own cousin? Oh, it's hard, I know. Maybe you should join him."

Dakota gasped as he drew his wand.

"Stupefy!" A shrill voice rang out in the silence of the car. Everyone swiveled around to locate the source of the curse. It was Neville.

"Sorry Harry, but I couldn't help it, he was-"

"Thanks, Neville," Harry interrupted. He gave the blond boy a grim smile before turning around to face Pansy; in the commotion, she had fled, leaving Draco to defend for himself.

"Well, can't have him hanging around the rest of the bloody time," Ron said with a grin. "Harry, want to dump him in the loo?" Harry flashed an identical grin, then pretended to think on it.

"Well, it is a good idea, Ron, but it should be fitting for our resident Youth Death Eater, don't you think?" He motioned for Dakota to take off the cloak. "Any ideas?"

Her eyes lit up. "Can we lock him in the loo with a bunch of bats and snakes and all sorts of creepy-crawly things? That's what he used to do to me, anyway." She looked pleadingly at Harry.

"Sounds about right...the bats'll scare him to death, after the beautiful Bat-Bogey Hex he was hit with from our newly elected prankster, Ginny." The redheaded girl bowed.

"Thank you, thank you!"

"C'mon Ron, help me with this git, he's heavy!" The two boys, with the help of Neville and Luna, carried the unconscious Draco to the boy's lavatory. They heaved him into the low sink, and stepped back as Ginny moved forward, wand at the ready.

* * *

After saying goodbye to her rescuers, Dakota set off to find Millie. '_Wait till she hears about this! She'll never believe that Harry Potter saved me from my cousin!' _She wandered down the corridors, occasionally peeking into compartments. "Sorry," she mouthed to a pair of burly-looking boys with green ties flopped around their necks.

She ran into the witch with the lunch cart some time later, and bought a few cauldron cakes to munch on. She traipsed down the corridor again listlessly, not knowing where she was going, exactly.

At a long last, Dakota found the compartment she'd been sitting in before Draco had ambushed her. She picked up her things once again, and tossed them into the car. Tava squeaked as she carried him to the window, where she sat in front of and gazed outside. The train was now surrounded by mountains, and dark clouds loomed overhead. Something told her that the trip was nearly half-over, so, after making sure the door was locked, she decided to change into her robes. As she slipped the robe over her skirt and vest, she wondered if she would please her mother and father with whatever House she was Sorted into.


	3. The Sorting

**The Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 3 – The Sorting**

* * *

"Oy." Dakota's voice, while making a half-hearted attempt to be quiet, rang clearly throughout the Entrance hall. She realized this as it came echoing back to her, and clapped her hand over her mouth in surprise.

"Excuse me, Miss Williams, if I could have your attention for a moment, and then you may go back to being freely surprised at the castle's enormity." The crisp voice of Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall floated down the marble staircase to the first years. A few of them gasped when they heard her, and all fell silent.

"In a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you may take your seats you have to be Sorted into your Houses. Follow me." The aged woman passed through two ancient, hand-carved wooden doors, and without the slightest idea what was going to happen next, the first years followed her into the Great Hall.

The first thing that caught Dakota's eye was not the purple sky dotted with flashes of lightning, nor was it the thousands of levitating candles. No, the thing that caught the slightly scared girl's eye was the decapitated ghost that stood in her way, it's silvery head hanging by a thread of sinew to it's neck.

"Hello there," the transparent image said cheerfully. Several students around her jumped in surprise, then backed away in horror. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"I'm sorry, but...w-who _are_ you?" Dakota's voice shook as she stammered the words. She had thought of saying 'what are you,' but had thought better of it.

"I'm dreadfully sorry; my manners seem to have slipped my mind. Forgive me. I am Sir Nicholas de-Mimsy Porpington, resident Gryffindor ghost." He bowed slightly, then adjusted his elaborate ruff to keep his head from wobbling.

"I know who you are," a familiar voice in the crowd said bravely. "My mum told me about you. You're Nearly Headless Nick!" Dakota turned around in curiosity. She knew that voice.

"Millie!" After they had greeted each other, they turned back to Nick, who was looking quite offended.

"Begging your pardon, but I would prefer to be called Sir-"

"Would all un-Sorted students gather round, please?" Professor McGonagall's voice cut in. She gestured to a worn three-legged stool with a tattered, patched hat. They formed a many-layered semi-circle around the stool. Dakota and Millie unconsciously bit their lips in unison as they anticipated what was to come.

"Now, when I call your name, sit upon the stool and I will place the Sorting hat on your head." She glanced down at the parchment in her bony hand.

"Arnold, Anya!" A thin, bespectacled brunette slid through a gap and walked wearily to the stool, closing her eyes when the hat was placed on her head. After a moment of utter silence, the hat shouted its decision.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The girl slid off the stool and scampered over towards the Hufflepuff table just as McGonagall called the next name.

"Glendall, Rose!" A petite girl with short black hair whose shine rivaled Cho Chang's detached herself from the crowd. She hopped onto the stool while grinning at someone in the crowd.

"RAVENCLAW!" She grinned, and hopped off to the Ravenclaw table, where, incidentally, she sat across from Cho Chang herself. She turned around immediately, as if waiting for another person.

"Glendall, Ruby!" The hall gasped in surprise. The first pair of twins since the Patils. The duplicate to the Cho Chang look-alike edged her way to the stool, glancing up at McGonagall's unsmiling eyes.

"RAVENCLAW!" The girl's twin scurried off the stool and made to sit next to her sister. Dakota fell silent as she watched the crowd around her dwindle slowly as the R's began to be called. Somewhere in that midst Millie had been Sorted, but she couldn't remember hearing the House. '_Oh well_,' she thought.

"Reed, Madison!" A girl with thick brown hair that was pulled up into a sleek ponytail skipped over to the stool. As she sat down, Dumbledore rose.

His eyes glanced over the hall, which fell silent. "I wish now to introduce you to one of the seven exchange students, Miss Madison Reed. I will announce the others' names as they are Sorted."

"RAVENCLAW!"

With a whoop, Madison jumped off and knocked over the stool. She slunk back, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry," she mumbled to McGonagall. She walked this time over to the Ravenclaw table, where she immediately turned around to watch the rest of the Sorting, shrugging off any unwanted conversations with the curious older Ravenclaw students, especially Cho and her friend Marietta.

Dakota was among the last of the few first years to be Sorted. There were only five other people besides herself who remained- a tall, blonde-haired boy who looked as though he'd blown in from the Cote d'Azur surfing; a snobby-looking brunette who stood at about five-foot-four and kept scuffing her shoes at the floor in a bored, standoff-ish way; a tall blonde girl with three earrings in each ear and pink flowered nail polish; a brown-haired boy who obviously inherited traditional Italian looks- a long nose with a bump, brown eyes, and wavy hair; and a tiny brunette whose hair was pulled back into two endless braids, falling just below her belt.

_'Oy,' _she thought glumly. '_Do I feel like the ugly duckling or what?_' In the whole Hall, she guessed that maybe two other people were from Middle Eastern descent, and they were twin girls. She pulled her head up just enough so she could see the withered parchment in McGonagall's hands.

"Mynuet, Luc!" The blonde boy sauntered over with an air almost identical to Malfoy's, except for the fact that he waved at the nearest flock of admiring, giggling girls. This time, Dumbledore announced that he was from Beauxbatons, and he hadn't visited the school during the previous meeting. Silence hung in the air; Dakota knew that it was to honor Cedric, who had died during the Triwizard Tournament, thanks to Lord Voldemort's resurrection.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The gaggle of girls screamed as they clapped, signifying their delight. Of course, Luc had the pride to seat himself in the middle of them, making the ones farthest from him fight with the others. Dakota couldn't help but smile. Draco needed competition, especially some that seemed nicer than he.

"Hilenbrandt, Roxi." Dakota held her breath as the brunette stalked past her and threw herself gracefully on the stool, maintaining a look similar to Draco Malfoy's traditional sneer on her face.

It came no surprise, a moment later, to hear the Sorting hat shout, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Santorini, Jule!" The dark haired boy sauntered over, and Dakota felt her eyes drooping. '_This is soooo boring! Call my name already!' _

"Williams, Dakota!" Her eyes snapped open. People all around her were staring at her and the short brunette politely, as if they were waiting for one of them to step forward. "Miss Williams?" McGonagall said again, as she raised her thinning eyebrows slightly.

"Oh!" As she forced a smile, she mentally cursed herself for looking like a complete prat in front of the whole school. She reached the stool, and looked over at the deputy headmistress. She motioned for her to sit, and she closed her eyes as the hat slipped over her brow and past her nose. She felt her face burn as the whole school laughed. '_I have a small head. Is it really that amusing?!?!?!!!'_

**_'Well, well. You must be Draco Malfoy's cousin. Ahh, yes, it seems like only last week that your father was being Sorted. Brought Slytherin House a whole lot of glory, didn't he?' _**A voice near the back of Dakota's mind said softly.**__**

_'What are you?_' Dakota thought shrilly.

**_'What am I? I think the question is who am I! I am the Sorting Hat! Now, where were we? Ahh, yes. You seem to like to stand up for yourself, especially to your siblings. Not a bad study ethic, either. A will to help people, well, you won't be in Slytherin, that's for sure...A streak of jealousy, if truth be told....Hmmmm!'_**

_'Hmmm, what?!__ Are you going to make me sit here all night, or are you going to Sort me?'_

**_'Don't get your knickers in a twist yet, missy! Well, then, if Slytherin's out, then that leaves you with Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Your jealousy keeps you from Hufflepuff, obviously. What else can we unearth about you? '_**

_'I like Quidditch! Does that help? Ummm, I like to roam around after hours on my own...usually when Mum gives me time for myself when we're on vacation....'_

**_'Oh? Hmm, perhaps Gryffindor, then, if you truly think you belong there!'_**

_'Anything!__ It's taken you forever!'_

"Gryffindor!" __

_'Phew!'_

Instead of receiving the stares she was anticipating, Dakota lifted the brim to see the Gryffindors clapping ecstatically. She grinned, and took the last empty seat. **_"_**Psst! Dakota! Hey!" She turned her head and looked down the bench to see Millie's smiling face. She waved.

"Hi! I'll talk to you later!"In reality, Dakota was so pleased that she was not the last one to brave the hat that she wanted to revel in the glory for a moment. As she was doing so, she glanced around the people nearest her. When she realized who it was, she almost choked on her pumpkin juice. The noise made the other students look at her, and her gaze was met by surprised and shocked faces.

The faces of-

_'Can I die now?'_

The faces of Harry Potter and his friends.


	4. Remarkable Ravenclaw

**The Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Remarkable Ravenclaw**

* * *

The first thought that came to Madison's otherwise occupied mind was, how on Earth did they manage to hide a place like this from Muggles? She, like so many other first-years, was not paying attention to the man with a beard that looked like it could take over half of Madagascar if it felt like it, but rather staring up at this thing...this thing they called the castle.

"Oof, sorry!" Madison nearly went headfirst into the inky black lake, thanks to one uprooted tree branch. Once again, as was habit, she quickly glanced around to make sure that no one she knew saw. _Again, genius, you're in ENGLAND! Unless, by some freakish coincidence, one of your former mates from the Manhattan Academy for Girls- God, I hated that place-...where was I?_

"Hurry up, will you?" A voice came behind her, and she swiveled to see an impatient redhead tapping her foot.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm going! Have a cow!" Madison muttered under her breath. Upon receiving another death glare from the foot-tapper, she quickly hopped into the remaining rowboat, if you could call it that, and waited. Unfortunately for her, the redhead seated herself on the other side.

"How are we going to get from here to there?" The girl wondered aloud. "There aren't any bloody oars!"

"Well, perhaps you should keep your mouth shut for a second so we can hear the tall guy talk! Honestly, you Brits are completely full of-"

"Where'd you grow up, a sty? Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?" The other girl smirked.

"Interesting sense of humor you have there," Madison retorted, her face growing hotter by the second. "Where'd you learn, private lessons? Bet they cost a fortune."

"At least you realize I can afford private lessons if I felt I needed them, unlike yourself." The redhead said coolly. "Then again, you don't seem like the brightest crayon in the box, and, then again, my status is anything but unrecognizable."

"Someone's full of themselves, aren't they?" Madison said, highly amused by this offending Brit's wit. She had always been one to attack with sarcasm and spur-of-the-moment jeers, and in the five years she had attended the Manhattan Academy for Girls, she'd never found a worthy opponent. _Well, now. There's a first time for everything, right? That's what Madam Oppenheim always said. I think. _

"A' righ', firs' years! There, jus' roun' the corner, tha's Hogwarts!" Hagrid then interrupted from the biggest rowboat in front of the small fleet. Madison and the redhead glared at each other, each daring the other silently to be the first to break and admire the winding turrets and many towers that was Hogwarts. Thankfully for Madison, they both cracked at the same time and 'oohed' collectively.

As their boat neared the middle and darkest part of the lake, they heard new sounds of people getting out of the boats far ahead. "The front's landed," breathed the other girl. Madison nodded slightly. Then, out of nowhere, from what seemed to be the very bottom of the thousand-fathom deep lake, came a giant tentacle, which slapped down on the bow. The boat easily snapped in half, like it was a mere sprig off a pine tree. Flapping their arms wildly, Madison and the British girl slid unceremoniously into the murky water.

Fortunately, their screams were heard by Hagrid, who immediately stopped the rest of the boats and whipped out an old, slightly bent, flowery umbrella and jabbed it in their direction. As more tentacles wrapped around the girls' feet, a bellowed spell threw the giant urchin off guard.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" A jet of light whizzed by Madison's head, missing it by mere inches, and hit the creature somewhere in the deep. Instantly, the grip pulling Madison down loosened enough to grab a hold of the other girl, who was close to hyperventilating, and take hold of Hagrid's outstretched hand.

"There yeh go, tha's it, wrap yerselves up in this, we're almos' there...tha's the ticket." He draped his enormous moleskin coat, which could have fit three six-foot men easily inside, around both the girl's shoulders as soon as they were dripping and shaking on the planked floor of his own boat.

"Thanks," Madison mumbled. Her ears were red, she just knew it. People all around were staring at them both, and Madison hated being the center of attention when it was her clumsiness they were gawking at. But then, technically it wasn't her fault. Her scrambled thoughts were sliced through by the sound of the redhead speaking again. Madison mentally prepared herself to think of something witty, and was not prepared for what came next.

"Thank you." Why I aught a…huh?__

"Huh?" She was clearly confused.

"For grabbing me out there," the redhead said. All signs of her once snippy demeanor had vanished, and a smile was adorning her soft features. "If you hadn't, I wouldn't have made it through the Sorting. Hell, I wouldn't have gotten to the other side of this thing."

"Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?" Madison sneered good-heartedly. "By the way, you're welcome."

"The name's VanCarte. Alexis VanCarte. Lexi, actually." The redhead held out her small, slightly shaking hand.

"Reed. Madison Reed, after the third president of the United States. Maddy, actually, for the love of God don't call me Madison." They shook hands, and Madison continued, "So, what house do you think you'll be in?"

"Oh, I hope I'm a Ravenclaw," Alexis replied immediately. "My brother was in Ravenclaw and he wound up being one of the only people in the history of Hogwarts who got thirteen out of fourteen OWLs. It's the house that prides in people with brains." She thought for a minute. "You've got a fair shot, you're the only one I know of that can throw a witty remark faster than I can."

"You think so?" Madison asked hopefully. By the time they got to the dock on the other side of the lake, Madison had learned that Alexis had gotten her letter while she was scuba-diving off the island of Crete on holiday with her brother Perry and his girlfriend, Gina, and she hadn't befriended many people their own age because of her academic strides, and of course, the fact that she was a witch.

As they trooped up the gigantic stone steps leading to the ancient wooden doors, Madison and Alexis held their breath, and waited for something similar to the squid rising up out of the water. The moleskin coat dragged behind them as they walked, and they saw many other first-years staring as they walked past, all of them careful not to tread on the hem.

Waiting in what looked to be an entrance hall, Alexis and Madison found a spot over by a painting of a very pale witch in violet. She smiled at them smugly, arms folded across her chest.

"D'you get the feeling that she knows something we don't?" Madison whispered behind her hand.

"Well," Alexis said thoughtfully, "She might. After all, she sees a lot of what goes on around the castle."

Footsteps sounded from the front, and both girls looked up in time to see an elderly witch dressed in forest green robes with bifocals perched primly upon the bridge of her nose. After speaking briefly with a student at the front, she said, "In a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you may take your seats you have to be Sorted into your Houses. Follow me."

One by one, they followed the woman, of whom Alexis had quickly concluded was the Deputy Headmistress Professor McGonagall, into an enormous cavern that held five long wooden tables, which were surrounded by students. After they all filed in, the doors swung shut on their own accord, and Professor McGonagall motioned for them to surround a three-legged stool. "Would all un-Sorted students gather round, please?"

As they obliged silently, she continued, "Now, when I call your name, sit upon the stool and I will place the Sorting hat on your head."

After what seemed like hours, Madison's name was called, along with a brief introduction of her part in the Will of the Wands treaty, and her stomach turned to ice. She was confident she wouldn't be in Slytherin, but what if she got Hufflepuff? Alexis had told her that they were the softest of the bunch- the average Joes.

She slowly made her way towards the stool, feeling very vulnerable and wondering what might happen when the hat spoke. After glancing at the woman, she slipped the hat on her head, and gripped the seat.

**_'Aah, who do we have here?'_**

_"Who said that?" _Madison thought wildly. Her eyes, though not seeing anything, glanced around the brim of the hat, as if expecting to see something.

**_''Twas I, the Sorting Hat! Now, my dear, what can we dig up about you? Hmmm...let me see...from the Untied States, I see...of course, t'would be because of the treaty...'_**

_"Is this all you do? Talk to people inside their heads? Wait, hats can't talk! Oh, I get it now! Maddy, dear, you're going crazy!'_

**_'I beg your pardon? You are most definitely not going crazy, as easy as that would be to cover up your misfortunes with...no...you seem to have a gift with words...not overly compassionate...'_**

_"That's rig- HEY! Did you just call me mean?"_

**_'I can see inside your mind, I know what you think. You've got a brilliant mind, and it would be a waste not to use that to your advantage. Well, then, if that's settled...Ravenclaw!'_**

Glad that it was over, Madison leapt off the stool and whooped, accidentally knocking over the stool in the process.

_Why, oh why does it have to be me? _Madison felt her face flush as she slunk back to Professor McGonagall, who was frowning. She attempted a sheepish smile, and to her surprise, the woman returned it with a thin-lipped smile of her own. Taking great pains not to run, Madison made her way to the Ravenclaw table, where she tried to avoid all conversations with the older students, especially the ones closest to her which, in her opinion, needed to stop talking about how their routine skin-peels went and pay attention.

One of the last people called, Alexis stepped up to the stool with a certain air of dignity that Madison admired and, to some extent, envied slightly. Madison held her breath, crossing her fingers under the table. When the hat's decision sounded seconds later, Madison thought she would faint with joy.

"RAVENCLAW!"****

With a sigh of relief, Alexis scurried over to the empty seat beside Madison and gave her a high-five. After stuffing their faces with bits of every dish they could reach, the two found their hunger to be nonexistent and wondered where their dormitory was.

"I honestly don't know where the Ravenclaws sleep. My brother always talked about how the Gryffindors got a tower, and how the Slytherins got the to think of it, I wouldn't want the Slytherins anywhere _but_ the dungeons!" Alexis wrinkled her nose as they followed the closest prefect, an Asian girl, to the doors.

"That seems to be a matter of opinion," came a cold voice behind them. Whirling around, Madison nearly died when she saw a man that looked as close to a vampire as she could imagine. One guess told her that this man was the head of Slytherin house, otherwise, he wouldn't have spoken. She was right.

"Let's see, as you are first years, and speaking about a rival house is unwise when you know nothing about the occupants, perhaps a week's worth of detentions with Mr. Filch and myself will teach you not to judge anything by what you hear," the man said silkily, baring horribly yellow teeth, which ended in unnatural points.

"And, for the record, who are you, sir?" Alexis, ever the brave one, spoke up. Instantly she knew she'd made a mistake, since the man drew his robes around himself and gave the distinct impression of a slightly overgrown bat ready to attack.

"I am Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house. While you remain at Hogwarts, you will address me as 'Professor' or 'Sir'. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Madison replied immediately. Both she and Snape turned to Alexis, who narrowed her eyes at Snape before answering.

"Crystal."

"Both of you, get to your dormitory before I decide to take house points off as well," Snape spat, turning on his heel and disappearing down a narrow staircase.

Looking extremely pale, Madison turned to Alexis and said," Now what do we do? We don't know where to go!"

"I don't know, either," Alexis said slowly. "But if we don't want house points taken off we'd better go somewhere!"

By the time they trudged up the marble staircase in the entrance hall, all of the first years and prefects had vanished. Some of the older students were milling about, talking to one another, going to talk to teachers. Neither of the girls recognized any of the students, except for one of three headed out the door.

"He helped me onto the platform," whispered Madison. Alexis ceased her incessant chatter immediately and looked at her friend.

"Do you know who that is?" When Madison shook her head, she continued, "Maddy, that's Harry Potter!"

_Oy__.__ I feel like I'm going to throw up._

"You did know that, didn't you?" Alexis eyed her closely. "Maddy! How could you not know?!?"

"Well, had I known it was him, I wouldn't be here, because I wouldn't have asked him to help me get through the barrier!" Madison retorted. "Honestly, Lexi, how dumb do I look?" After realizing what she had just said, Madison shook her head. "Don't answer that."

"Oh, stop it! We've got to find our way to the dormitories before Snake or whatever his name is catches up with us," Alexis said.

"Snape, actually, and wouldn't it be easier to just yell, 'Hey, anybody know where the Ravenclaw dormitories are?'" Madison said, looking about.

"Are you two lost?" A girl with rather bushy brown hair and a badge emerged from a side corridor. "Would you like me to show you to the dormitories?"

"Oh, that would be great!" Alexis said happily.

"To Gryffindor tower, then," the girl replied.

"Wait, we're in Ravenclaw!"

"Oh," the girl said uncertainly. "I don't know where your dormitories are. I'm one of the Gryffindor prefects. But, I can find someone who does know." She pulled a plastic mirror from her pocket, and said sharply, "Cho Chang, please!"

A face appeared on the smooth side of the mirror, looking quite peeved. "Yes, Hermione?" Madison recognized her as the girl who was talking rather loudly about face-peels and skin lotions at the Sorting.

"There are two Ravenclaw first years standing in the second floor corridor with me," the girl called Hermione replied testily. "I don't suppose you even bothered to check your list and do a head count, in case anyone fell behind?"

The image scowled, and then at the mention of a head count had the good grace to blush furiously.

"I didn't think so," Hermione said. "I can assure you I will report this to Professor McGonagall, and you will most likely be given a warning. I can't believe you didn't check to make sure everyone was there with you! How many years have you been a prefect, anyway?"

"Longer than you have," Cho said. She wore a smirk as she continued, "At least I don't show off by doing extra to impress the teachers. Marching around during dinner, checking to make sure the first years had no trouble getting across the lake. Acting a bit like a mother hen, aren't we, Hermione?"

Before Hermione could answer, a boy turned the corner and said, "There you are, 'Mione. I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

"Aah, perhaps I should go then," Cho said. "Don't want to get in the way of you and your...erm, friend."

"Wait just a minute! Where do the first years go?" Hermione asked.

"Bring them to the library," Cho said, inspecting a slender fingernail. "I'll meet you there. Don't keep me waiting." She vanished abruptly, leaving Hermione to snarl in frustration.

"Ooh! That girl is so infuriating sometimes!" She said this mainly to the boy, who was also wearing a prefect badge and Gryffindor robes. "Oh, where are my manners? Girls, this is Ron Weasley."

"I'm Alexis VanCarte. Lexi, please."

"I'm Madison Reed. Maddy, actually. So, where's the library?"

"Don't ask me," Ron said seriously. "Ask Hermione, it's her second home here in Hogwarts, she hardly ever leaves." He ducked a playful slap from Hermione. "She's the smartest girl in the whole school. If you have any problems, look for her. I'm sure she'd be happy to help."

"I'm not that smart, Ron," Hermione mumbled. "But he's right, if you need help, look for me at the Gryffindor table. Goodness knows how much your own prefect would help."

Madison and Alexis looked at each other. "Well, she did seem kind of snippy," Alexis said thoughtfully. "What's her problem with you, anyway?"

"If it's not our place to ask, don't answer," Madison added hurriedly.

"Well, she and our friend Harry-"

"-Harry Potter, sure you've heard of him," interrupted Ron.

"Thank you, Ron. Anyway, she and our friend Harry had a bit of an awkward relationship a while ago. It's rather complicated, but I'll try to explain. Two years ago, during our fourth year, there was something called the Triwizard Torunament going on. Harry'd always had a crush on her, and asked her to the Yule Ball, and found out that she was going with the other champion from Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory. At the end of that year, V-v-" she took a deep breath, "Voldemort came back, and he killed Cedric."

Madison gasped, and Alexis clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Anyway, last year, Cho started being a little friendlier towards Harry, and during a meeting of...of a club they were both in, she kissed him underneath some mistletoe and then cried all over him. It was a bit awkward, especially for him. He wound up taking her to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day, and he said something about meeting us after they had split up, and she got angry at him." Hermione smiled smugly. "I suppose she still thinks he was going out with me after, she's a bit of the jealous type."

"Besides, if Hermione were going out with my best mate I'd have to shoot myself," Ron added. "Mind you, I thought she fancied him at the end of the year, and that wasn't exactly a bowl of roses...that's what the saying is, right?"

"I think you've confused 'a bowl of cherries' and 'a bunch of roses'," Hermione said, giggling.

"Well, the important thing is they got the point," Ron said. "Hey, here's the library. 'Mione, why don't you show them your chair?"

"You have a chair?" Madison asked incredulously.

"No," Hermione said, still laughing.

"She might as well have, she spends so much time in here," Ron said with a lopsided grin. "I hope since now I'm her boyfriend she doesn't think I'll be spending as much time in here," he added in a stage whisper.

They had stepped into the musty old room by then, and Hermione was giving a running commentary of what normally happened there. "Over there is where Madam Pince...oh, hello, Professor," she said. An abnormally small man had appeared from the left, of which the cracked sign that read 'Charms' hung from the ceiling.

"Hello, Hermione! Looking forward to Honours Charms, I presume?" The wizard spoke in a squeaky voice that reminded Madison of a toy that had been wound too tightly.

"Oh, yes! I did that essay that you wanted me to, Professor, but I may-"

"-Have gone over the required length. You don't think that will be a problem, do you?" recited Ron. Madison giggled. "Honestly, I don't think her essays have ever been of the required length." He sighed. "Of course she'd make it to Honours Charms. Harry and I got to Advanced Charms, I thought that'd be good enough. Far cry from the standard classes." He ran a large hand through his red hair and waited until Hermione had finished.

* * *

"I wonder where Cho is," said Hermione, checking her watch for the second time in five minutes.

"She'll be here, it's only been ten minutes," Ron said soothingly. Alexis and Madison exchanged looks. _How are we ever going to get to the dormitories?_

"Don't you have that mirror thing?" asked Alexis.

"That's right! Oh, thank you!" Hermione began rummaging in her pockets until she found the cracked pink plastic sphere. "Cho Chang, please!" Once again, Cho's face appeared, this time contorted into what resembled a look of exhaustion.

"Sorry, Hermione," she panted. "A third year got sick and we've been cleaning it up. Seems like she swallowed one of Fred and George's trick candies by mistake at dinner and didn't eat the part the purple end was concealed in. I'm on my way."

"Is she all right?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"She's fine. The kid who put the candy in her food in the first place was her brother, and he gave her the purple end of another candy. I'm near the third floor corridor now," Cho said breathlessly.

"I'm so sorry, Cho, about what I said to you earlier," Hermione began. The image of Cho waved a perfectly manicured hand at her.

"No problem. You were mostly right, anyway. I always forget about the first-years. Marietta has to remind me most of the time."

"Okay. See you in a few minutes."

"Yeah. Should be there in five minutes. Tell the two girls that I'm really sorry. They must be scared stiff; I remember when I was a first year, I got lost and I wound up sleeping in the Great Hall until Professor Flitwick found me." Her face faded, and Hermione pocketed the mirror again.

"Handy little buggers, aren't they?" Ron said lightly. Avoiding Hermione's reprimanding glare, he gestured to the dusty armchairs nearby. "Have a seat."

"Fred and George," Alexis said, twirling a strand of her long red hair between her fingers. "Was she referring to Fred and George Weasley? The ones who have the joke shop in Diagon Alley?"

"Yeah," said Ron, turning red.

"They're brilliant, don't you think? I wonder what it would be like to spend time around them. Wonder if they'd walk around, dropping pranks like someone would drop Dungbombs around their mother," Alexis continued.

"They would," Ron replied immediately. Alexis stared at him.

"How do you know? Did you know them from school? They went here, didn't they?"

"Actually, they're my older brothers," Ron said, putting his feet up on the coffeetable.

"Really?" Alexis asked interestedly.

"Yeah," spoke up Hermione. "They tease me all the time because I'm somewhat like their older brother, Percy."

"Now wait just a minute," Ron said shortly, putting his hands up to form a T, for time-out. "You, nor anybody in this entire school, except for Malfoy and Parkinson and maybe Snape, are not anything like that prat. Yes, he may have gotten twelve OWLs, and he may have been Head Boy, but he's a damn fool, and that is exactly what you aren't, 'Mione."

"I take it that Percy's the guy who supported that madwoman who was running the school last year?" Madison said, feeling slightly put out that she had almost no idea who they were talking about.

"Yes," replied Ron testily. "Umbridge's what her name was. Foul, conniving-"

"RON!" Hermione chided. "Yes, I know she was horrible, but she's out of the picture now."

"She set the dementors on Harry over the summer last year," Ron continued. Alexis gasped, and Madison raised her eyebrows.

"I heard about that! My father's friends with Dumbledore. He's part of the-um..the..." Alexis trailed off, blushing pink.

"It's okay, we know what you're talking about," Hermione reassured her. Alexis nodded.

"Who's your dad?" Ron asked interestedly.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," replied Alexis, without skipping a beat. When she saw that Ron was about to ask another question, she continued, "I'm adopted. He and my mum are divorced, and I took Mum's name."

"Oh," said Ron.

"Madison, are you all right?" Hermione asked suddenly. Madison wanted to take out her brand-new wand, point it in the middle of her face, and reply, 'No, I'm not! I have absolutely no clue what and who you're talking about! I'm from the United States! Nothing you know about happens over there!' She settled for nodding her head.

"Well, you're awfully quiet," pressed Hermione. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Yup," Madison replied. As an afterthought, she added, "I'm from New York, so I dunno what you're going on about."

"OH!" A look of sudden realization appeared on Hermione's face. "That's right! I'm sorry! How does it feel to be someone from a different country at a school with all British people?"

"It's a little different," Madison replied truthfully, grateful that Hermione had such an understanding personality. "The people are much nicer here, though."

"Are you sure?" laughed Ron. "'Cause, last time I checked, Malfoy and his gang of goons weren't high up on that list. Hell, I don't think they're fifty feet from the list."

"Seriously? The people in New York only care about themselves. They're always yelling at each other and doing horrible things," Madison said. "The night before I left for England with my mom and my brother and sister, three major stores were robbed, and six people were murdered." Hermione, Ron, and Alexis shuddered. Madison continued, "That's on the mainland, though. I live on Coney Island. That's out in New York Harbor."

"Yes, I know where it is," Hermione said, folding her hands in her lap. "I've been on holiday there twice. Do you have to take a ferry over?"

"Yeah. It's pretty cool, actually. Mom usually never lets us out of her sight, but I get to go on the ferry alone if she knows that I'll be catching the so-and-so ferry back." She stopped abruptly, then mumbled something along the lines of, "It may not sound like a big deal to you, but it is to me."

The rusted hinges on the door to the library squeaked then, signaling the arrival of Cho, whose normally sleek and perfect hair was plastered across her forehead. "I...am...so sorry," she panted. Her robes were in such a state of disarray that Hermione got the impression that she ran all the way.

"Did you run here?" Ron asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder at Cho.

"Yeah," Cho said. Struggling to keep her eyes from boring holes into his freckled face, she looked around and said, "Where are the first years?" Madison and Alexis got up and greeted her. "Okay, thanks, Hermione. Ron," Cho said, nodding to both of them.

"Thanks," Alexis said.

"If you need anything, don't forget what I said before," Hermione reminded them.

"Yeah, thanks," Madison said, shaking Ron's hand. "Bye!"

"Come on, let's go," Cho said impatiently by the door. "Come on, if you two don't hurry we'll be 'out of bed after hours'."

After they were well away from the library, Cho led Alexis and Madison through a labyrinth of passages, hallways, and staircases. As they passed the Owlery, Cho stopped and said, "This is where you can find your owl or the school owls if there's post you need to send. Mail arrives in the morning." They took a left turn from there, and then three right turns that led them to a corridor in the West Wing of the castle that was decorated with stained glass windows that arched and paintings of famous women in history.

"Cleopatra, Cassandra of Troy, Helen of Sparta, Jeanne d'Arc, Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mary, Eleanor of Aquitaine-" Madison read under her breath as they passed the numerous paintings. "-Queen Isabel, Rowena Ravenclaw..."

The painting of Rowena Ravenclaw was, by far, the most eye-catching of them all. It showed a woman in her late twenties with a short blue dress with a matching cloak trimmed with gold. There was an enormous black raven perched on her shoulder, carrying what looked to be the woman's wand in its beak. Her hair, which was long and curly, almost matched the feathers of the bird. Behind her, the lake that was outside the nearest window sparkled with the colors of an autumn sunset.

"Here we are," Cho announced. Alexis and Madison looked at her expectantly. She looked back and forth between the two and said, "The password for this week is 'crescendo'." As she said the word, the painting of their house founder began to sink into the stone floor.

Alexis stepped back immediately, not knowing what might happen. Madison, however, stepped forward, and saw a flight of stairs leading downwards.

"Come on," Cho said, tapping her foot. Obediently, Alexis scurried down the stairs and found two wings, one leading to the left, one leading to the right. "Make for the right one, then turn one hundred and twenty degrees," Cho called from the back. Alexis did as she was instructed, and led the trio down another short corridor, which led to-

"The common room," Cho said, waving her hand. It really was a spectacular sight- there were two fireplaces, each surrounded by plush armchairs made of the finest leather. All around, there were shelves upon shelves of books. Madison craned her head to look above the archway they had come through. There seemed to be four levels total, each holding bookcases upon bookcases and convenient study tables. "C'mere," Cho said, leading them to an old ladder that looked like (and probably was) held together by magic.

"The bottom floor is for first and second years. This floor is for the third and fourth years," Cho said. She led them to the other side of the balcony, and up another ladder. "This is for fifth and sixth years." Around to the opposite side again, and up another ladder. "And the seventh years," Cho said proudly.

The top level was by far the most interesting of the three, with many wizarding games and references, such as models of the first Quaffle, dated 1274; an autographed picture of the famous musician Amadeus Mozart with the headmaster of Hogwarts at the time, a woman by the name of Elaine Generis; and an authentic map showing the floor plans for Hogwarts, which was dated more than a thousand years ago. The tables were small and low to the ground, giving off an almost Asian feel, because of the lack of armchairs. Instead, there were silk pillows in the house colors.

"I like this level," Madison said finally.

"Yeah, well, you don't get to come up here until you graduate. You get the ground floor," Cho teased. "Down you go."

Long after the moon had finally risen and the stars took their places in the dark sky, Madison and Alexis finally retired to their dormitory, which was bedecked in the Ravenclaw colors, moved their beds closer for late-night whispering, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**A/N:** Well. **Well what?** For all of you who wondered what Ravenclaw people operated with, now you have a picture. **Somewhat. It may not align with J.K.'s feelings, but this is ours, not hers. We're only borrowing the characters and such that have made her wealthy.** Yeah, slight problem there, us not owning anything but where the Ravenclaw commons are. Pathetic, eh? **Eh? What are you, Canadian? (No offense to the maple leaf-bearing people out there)** Well, we're American and we're writing a fic centering around Brits, so why can't we use other regional terminology? **Ya have a point there.** As always. **Whatever.** Aren't you going to tell them? **Tell them what?** (Dufoli raises eyebrows at very confused Siaryst) **OH! Okay, gotcha!** Well? **Hold your britches, I'm getting there. When we began writing this fic, we had hoped that AmberVoice would be a regular participant in the madness. However , she is very busy, and will probably be joining us once in a while and to make guest appearances. So, with that in mind, Dufoli and I will try our best to write Millie, the character she created, the best we know how to do, seeing how there isn't much point in introducing such a character like Millie and not using her after two segments. Kapeish?** I think they get it. Don't forget to review! The fate of the direction of this very story lies in your hands! **Are you feeling okay?** No, I'm not. **That explains it.** -The new maniacs responsible for such madness, Siaryst & Dufoli


	5. Detention and a Fight

**Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Detention and a Fight**

* * *

Fortunately, the first years settled themselves uneventfully into the regular routines of Hogwarts. It was during a particularly evil Potions class that Millie came about an astonishing epiphany.

"The first Flying lesson is this weekend, and then after that's the first Quidditch match!" Astonished, Dakota stared at her.

"I would think that you, of all people, would be the one to know that! Sheesh! I've only mentioned it once an hour or so."

"Sorry, I guess I forgot."

"Obviously," a cold voice spat behind them. "Although, Miss Eliot, it seems as though the current standings of your social life and the well-being of your abysmal Quidditch team are the least of your worries as of now."

Gulping, Millie turned around to see Professor Snape smirking down at her. Next to her, Dakota was just as petrified, as she was trying extremely hard not to faint. Bracing herself, Millie prepared for the wave of insults.

Surprisingly, none arrived. Stooping so low Millie thought he was bent over backwards, Snape carefully inspected the contents of her cauldron. "What is this supposed to resemble, Eliot?" He picked up the ladle from the workbench and ladled out just enough so the entire class could see before dripping it slowly back down. "Well?"

"A Confusing Concoction, sir," Millie answered meekly.

"Is it?" Snape brought his gaze to the cauldron again, before curving his lips into a crooked smile. "And, might I be so bold as to question what the color of said concoction should be?" Whirling around, he jabbed his finger at a dark-haired Slytherin girl near the front. "Jamison!"

"The Confusing Concoction should have turned a dull shade of gold by now, Professor," the girl answered tonelessly.

"And, pray tell, what ingredient makes this particular potion turn the described color? Anyone?"

Another Slytherin, this time a blond-haired boy, said in a rather thick Irish accent, "The walrus whiskers should have triggered the color-change, sir."

Snape smiled again, this time even baring his yellowing teeth. "You see, Eliot? It seems as though while concerning yourself with your social life, you have neglected your potion. Such a shame, too, because now, in five minutes' time, you will have nothing to pass in for me to grade." He paused. "Meet me here after dinner so we can discuss your detention. That goes for you, too, Williams."

When the bell rang, Millie pushed through the sea of students with labeled flasks and stumbled out into the dank corridor.

_How dare he criticize me in front of everyone! How humiliating is that? I wonder if Professor Dumbledore was ever chastised in class...no...he'd never allow his mind to wander..._

As she was contemplating what other humiliations might have matched the one she had been subjected to, she failed to realize where she was headed, which was straight into a wall.

"Oof!" All of her books scattered everywhere, ink smashed all over her robes and shoes, and quills fluttered in a circle around her. Rubbing her head, Millie sat up and groaned. The next thing she knew, she was being pulled to her feet by a very tall person.

Regaining her balance, Millie stared up at her rescuer. And up. And up. And up. Her knight in shining armor had red hair.

"You all right?" The boy asked, stooping again to help her with her books. "Took a nasty shiner to the head, you may want to see Madame Pomfrey."

"Thanks," Millie mumbled, trying as hard as she could to not possibly blush in this person's presence.

"What had you completely clued out to run into a wall?" The boy asked, a slightly goofy grin on his face. "I mean, I've done it loads of times, but you seemed to have something on your mind."

A bout of anger flared. "Snape, that no-good bat, gave me detention because my Confusing Concoction was a tad on the orange side when it was supposed to be a 'dull gold'." Despite her embarrassing situation, Millie found herself unable to keep a hint of sarcasm out of her voice.

"Ohhhh. So you've discovered what a filthy son of a bi-"

"There you are!" Millie turned, and groaned again. Dakota had finally caught up with her, and was waving her latest essay on the consequences of too many bumblebee wings in everyday cold remedies in the air. Catching her breath, she turned to the redhead. "Hi, I'm Dakota. Who're you? And why, Millie, are all of your things on the floor?"

"I'm Ron," the boy said seriously, "And...Millie, is it? took a nasty slam into the wall. Thinking of her dear Professor Snape, she was."

Millie gasped and slapped Ron's arm playfully. "You know fully well I was not! I was thinking of how he's so incredibly sinister an-"

"Mill? Sorry, but I was wondering if you could possibly dumb it up for yours truly? Because I'm lost at 'so'." Millie stared at her friend, trying to understand the way her thought process worked. Beside her, the boy called Ron was nodding emphatically.

"Never mind. Not important," Millie mumbled. Dakota shrugged, and went on to talk about how Millie had awful luck when it came to running into people. Why did Dakota have to come along and ruin perfectly good conversations all the time? _Oy__.__ Oh, well. It can't be as bad as when she came along when Harry Potter and I ran into each other. Anyway, it's not like Ron knows Harry or anything, so why should I be embarrassed? _

Of course, Millie snapped out of her reverie just as Dakota was saying, "When I was getting on the train, I saw her and Harry Pott-"

"Actually, Dakota, we've got to go. Thanks for everything, Ron!" Millie called over her shoulder as she dragged Dakota into the Great Hall.

"What was that for?" Dakota asked as she readjusted her tie.

"What was that for? That was to keep you from embarrassing me, that's what!" Millie exclaimed.

"Embarrass you? How-"

"By talking about how I, Amelia Jane Eliot, ran into Harry Potter the day we arrived and just how I knocked him over, that's how!" Extremely frusterated, Millie stomped over to the end of the Gryffindor table and threw her things in a vacant place. She pretended not to notice when Dakota took the place across from her.

"I'm sorry, Mill. I didn't know that you wanted to forget that it happened. If I were you, I'd lighten up and laugh about it," Dakota said, twisting a ring around on her thumb.

Even though she knew that this was her way of apologizing, Millie couldn't take it. "Reality check, Dakota. You aren't me." As soon as she said that, Millie wished she hadn't, as Dakota's brown eyes widened in surprise.

"Okay, then. I'll just go." With that, Millie watched her friend walk out of the Great Hall without touching her lunch.

* * *

All through Herbology and half of Transfiguration, Dakota pondered all possible ways of apologizing to Millie. Half of her was sure that this had been brought upon herself, and that it was up to her to make it right again, but there was one little bit that would voice its opinion at the most inconvenient times.

**_She yelled at you, remember? You already apologized. _**

_Yeah, but still.__ I shouldn't have brought up her tripping into Harry. I should have known she wouldn't want to talk about it; she's not that kind of person._

**_But still- you already apologized!_**

_I'm not listening to you,_ Dakota thought. Unfortunately, her absence of mind was noted by Professor McGonagall, who called her to attention.

"Miss Williams? Is there something you wish to share with us that seems to have let your studies take a backseat in your mind?"

Dakota stared at her before shifting her gaze to Millie. Then she shook her head. "No, Professor."

* * *

After the four houses met in the Great Hall for dinner, four girls made their way separately to the dungeons that Potions classes were held for detention. Little did they know that they would soon be spending almost every waking moment in each others' presence.

* * *

"I can't believe we've got detention on a Friday night!" Madison exclaimed. She and Alexis were scraping the last bits of chopped veal from their plates before descending into the dungeons, where who knew what awaited them for punishment.

"I know," grumbled Alexis. Her red hair draped about her like a thin curtain, enveloping her to the elbows. "Oh, well. It's got to be a good thing that he didn't remember the first Quidditch match is tomorrow, or we'd be stuck doing this then."

"That would be horrible," Madison gasped, entertaining the thought for a few moments. "No. I don't even want to consider what I might do to him if he did that to us."

"And I don't want to hear it, either," Alexis said briskly.

"Gee, love you too, Lexi," Madison joked. Alexis gave her a glare, and she fell silent again.

"Come on, you oaf. We'd better get down there before he spontaneously combusts." As they made their way out the doors, Madison tripped and fell, making another girl fall along with her.

"Sorry about that, it's got to be the American in me," Madison said, looking at the other girl. She had long dark hair, with dark brown eyes and tan skin. She guessed that she was a first year, too, because she seemed somewhat familiar. The other girl smiled.

"Yeah, I don't think I was really watching where I was going. Thinking of how nice it's going to be when I'm free from detention," she cast a mock longing look back at the food.

"You've got detention, too?" Alexis spoke up. The girl nodded.

"Snape."

"Hey, us too! Want to walk with us?" She graciously accepted, and they set off together, talking excitedly about the upcoming Quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

* * *

_I feel so left out,_ thought Millie dejectedly. She often wondered how it was possible that Dakota could get along with just about anybody, save for her cousin. What was worse, Millie recognized the girl Dakota had run into as the American from the train. It wasn't like Millie disliked Dakota- it was exactly the opposite. She was just jealous.

Gathering her bag, not bothering to glance at the other Gryffindors enjoying their dinner, Millie sighed and followed them into the dungeons. Of course, she was apparently the one they had been waiting for, as Professor Snape sneered when she walked in.

"You're late, Eliot." She winced.

"I'm sorry, sir."

He regarded her, the only one separate from the group of four girls. "Since you are already in detention, five points will be withdrawn from Gryffindor in your name." Millie flushed, trying as hard as she could will herself to not look at Dakota, who was no doubt either disgusted or snickering. At the present moment, Millie made herself not care.

* * *

Needless to say, detention was NOT what Dakota would have called fun. Rubbing her sore arms, she returned to Gryffindor Tower harboring a temper and great dislike for one Severus Snape. To make things worse, she and Millie still weren't speaking.

* * *

Instead of retiring to the common room, like Dakota was bound to do, Millie decided to visit Hagrid, with whom she shared a liking for dragons. Ignoring the beckon she received from the Quidditch pitch, where several members of the Ravenclaw team were practicing, Millie pulled the collar of her cloak up past her ears and hastened her step to the cozy cottage at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Raising her shaking fist to knock on the massive plank door, Millie hoped he was still awake- dusk was fast approaching, and who knew when Snape considered their punishment to be over. A voice pierced her thoughts then, and she looked up.

"Fer a minute there I didn't know if yeh'd left us," Hagrid said cheerfully. He stepped aside to let her enter. What made her almost faint was not the enormous dog that bounded over and began licking her face, nor was it the entire cow hanging from the eaves. Harry Potter sat at the trestle table, clutching a bucket-size mug of tea.

"I'm sure yeh know each other," Hagrid said, fixing Millie some tea as well, "Bein' in the same House an' all."

Even though she knew it probably offended him greatly, she could not bring herself to look Harry in the eye. Her face flushed when she recounted their last meeting in her head. The look on his face when Dakota had seized his hand was horrifying, not to mention extremely embarrassing for Millie.

Harry cleared his throat, and whether it was coincidence or not, Millie had no idea. She blushed an even brighter red, and cursed her great-great-great grandfather Nicolas for his extremely fair and easily flustered features.

"So, Harry, are yeh ready for the match against Hufflepuff nex' week?" Hagrid had obviously not noticed the tension between the two Gryffindors, and continued his conversation with Harry. Millie didn't think it was her place to listen in, so she tuned Hagrid's booming voice and Harry's almost inaudible murmur out, and looked around the rest of the cabin in awe.

"Millie? Hello?" Hagrid and Harry were staring at her, both attempting not to crack a smile. She immediately felt really stupid, for it looked as though they were waiting on her opinion of some sort. She tried to remember what they had been talking about before she had completely zoned them out.

_Let's see, Quidditch, someone named Cho- don't know who he or she is, mind- er, come on, Millie, think! Oh...Care of Magical Creatures! _

_"_Um," Millie said finally, "What?" Hagrid grinned, and Harry clapped his fist over his mouth to keep his smile from her sight.

"We wanted to know what you'd been up to, but you seem to be a bit lost," Harry said, running his fingers through his messy black hair.

"Oh." Millie said. "Yeah, I'm always a bit lost. Some people tell me I have two brains, actually. One of them has gone and gotten itself lost, and the other's out looking for it, so either way, I'm a bit out there." She felt slightly better when Harry began to laugh.

"So, wha' have yeh been up to? Yeh looked a migh' depressed when yeh came in," Hagrid pressed. Millie sighed.

"Well, it all started this afternoon when Snape gave me detention for not creating a perfect Confusing Concoction. Apparently, I'd left out the wa-"

"-Walrus whiskers," finished Harry. She stared at him, and he grinned. "Took me a while to figure out why I couldn't get it exactly that shade of gold. He took off fifteen points then. Looks like he's upped his means of depriving students of their free time. Or, in your case, your dinner. Pity, they had those really good chipolatas."

"Wow. So are you like, the next Fred or George?" Millie asked interestedly.

"You know about them?" asked Harry incredulously, stirring his tea absentmindedly.

"Who doesn't? They're practically famous here! They've even gotten a plaque and a roped-off swamp. It's soo cool, I heard that they were going to put them on the market."

"I remember that," Harry said. Millie cocked her head and looked at him quizzically. "I was there, this really foul Defense teacher was here last year, name's Umbridge-"

"Oh, I hate her!" Millie exclaimed. Now it was Harry's turn to look at her quizzically. Alarming herself with her sudden outburst, Millie blushed. "My father used to work with the Ministry, she was his boss. She'd come over every other week, checking up on him. He worked from home, you see." She cringed. "Every time she'd come over, I'd have to wear this awful black dress with a lacy pink cardigan thing, which was, coincidentally, a gift from her."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Ew."

"Yeah," Millie agreed. "Once I didn't wear it, and she looked like she was going to stun me on the spot. It was horrible. Her face got really green, and her eyes got all small and squinty, and-"

"She didn't use the voice, did she?" Harry asked, leaning on his elbows.

"The one where she sounds like that girl on that Muggle show, um...Will and Gertrude or something like that?"

"Will and Grace?" Harry laughed.

"Yeah, that! Wait, how'd you know that?"

"I live with my aunt and uncle…" Harry explained. "…and their son, Dudley, who currently resembles a very large blue whale." Millie snickered. "I used to watch that all the time, whenever I could." He paused. "Or, whenever they'd go out during the evening, which was usually every Tuesday."

"Tuesday?" Millie inquired.

"Yeah," Harry said, shrugging. "Some special night or some rubbish like that." Millie nodded. Silence pursued, until Hagrid spoke.

"How's yer friend, Carolina or whatever her name was?" Hagrid wanted to know. Millie scowled, her expression turning sour.

"Dakota?" Millie asked. "We're sort of, well, we're not talking right now." Hagrid looked surprised.

"Why not?"

"I kind of snapped at her after she apologized for accidentally slipping about-" She glanced at Harry, eyes wide, "-about something I'd rather not say."

Harry surprised her by saying, "Was this about running into me?" At Millie's horrified expression, he smiled. "If it is, which it probably is, judging by your face, you should go talk to her. I'm sure she won't just stop talking to you. Believe me, my friend Ron and I had one argument over whether or not I really entered myself in the Triwizard Tournament or not, and that went on for like, four months- and we're still friends."

Millie looked down at her tea, which was almost gone. She could see the sugar collecting at the bottom, but she didn't care. Harry continued, "Seriously, if you just talk to her, you'll forget it ever happened." She looked up at him, and he grinned. "By the way, I was the one at fault when we collided at King's Cross."

"What?" Millie asked incredulously. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I was looking for Ron and Hermione. I'd kind of hoped they'd meet me somewhere, but apparently they didn't. Sorry if I embarrassed you."

Millie shook her head. "It should be me apologizing, if Dakota hadn't scared the living daylights out of you-"

"-I get it all the time," Harry interjected.

"Well, Millie, now yeh can't walk by 'im withou' sayin' hello in between class," Hagrid said happily. "When yeh firs' came in, I though' yeh'd walk righ' back out again, after seein' 'im."

"Thanks, Hagrid." Millie looked at him, then flicked her gaze to Harry. "Harry." She picked up her mug and rinsed it before putting it in the sink. "I should probably go find Dakota."

As soon as she left, Hagrid turned to Harry and said seriously, "Tha' took a lot o' guts, tellin' a firs' year abou' yer fight with Ron. An' yeh made her realize the world's a lot better with friends aroun'." Harry nodded.

"I hope they work things out. This may be only the beginning of what's destroyed in Voldemort's name, if they're not careful."

* * *

Somewhere along the west coast of Britain's countryside, a cloaked man brought news to his master. "My Lord, we have found a few things that you will be most pleased with."

A high, almost chilling voice answered the man, the hint of extreme hierarchy in the tone he used. "Williams, I must admit you impress me still. You will prove valuable to me yet. But you suspected this already, did you not?"

"Yes, my Lord," the cloaked man answered truthfully. "I have done everything in my power to ensure that the secret of the key was found." He trembled from his position on the ground, kneeling in front of the stone temple. "And we did."

* * *

A/N: **Dun-dun-dun-dun!** Ahhh, don't you just loooooove cliffhangers? (Dufoli elbows Siaryst and winks) **Yep.** And, what's worse, you don't know what they're talking about! **Yep.** Is that all you're going to say? **Yep.** Well, since the sister ship is not responding, we will have to rely on...ME! **Uh-oh.** Reviews are good. Very good. Actually, they might possibly be the best thing in the fanfiction world. **Yep. So, plllllleeeeeaaaase review.** -The Finally Up-And-Moving-In-The-Direction-We-Wanted-To-Go-In-The-First-Place, Still Incredibly Insane and Giggly, Siaryst (the ever-faithful sidekick) & Dufoli **HEY! WAIT JUST A COTTON-PICKING MINUTE!** Houston, we have a problem! Ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	6. A Startling Epiphany

**The Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 6 – A Startling Epiphany**

* * *

The first thing Harry said to the people he recognized as his dorm-mates was, "Make sure they're safe," before slumping into unconsciousness.

The next thing he knew, he was sitting up in the Hospital Wing, surrounded by people ranging from Mrs. Weasley, who was still clutching her knitting, to Professor McGonagall. "Aah, Potter, you're awake," noted Madame Pomfrey, bustling over with what looked like the whole cupboard of restorative potions.

"Glad you're better, Potter," McGonagall said. She had her hat in her hands, and was wringing it until it was in knots, which was very unlike her. He then realized why she was so uncomfortable. The last time this had happened, Mr. Weasley was attacked.

"Perhaps you could tell us why you woke up screaming," a voice came from behind the crowd. Harry recognized it easily as Professor Dumbledore's. Mrs. Weasley stepped aside to let the elderly man through. "I realize that this is a very trying time for you, Harry, but I must ask that you tell us exactly what you saw." Behind him, Ron and Hermione stood, looking very white and shaken.

"The first years!" Harry said absently, almost shouting. "Where are the first years?"

"Mr. Potter, the first years are elsewhere, as they should be," McGonagall said sharply. "Besides, what does that have to do with what you saw?"

"Everything," Harry said shortly.

* * *

_The wind howled, spray from the coast drenching the Death Eaters distributed to three rowboats. Two at the front of each boat, they rowed closer to their destination. A simpering bald man met them at the dock._

_"The Dark Lord has been expecting you," he wheezed. The man in the most prominent boat stepped out, silvery hair whipping in the wind. _

_"And I would suppose that you have no clue as to the reasons we are here, as usual," he sneered. The bald man instantly began rubbing his right wrist, as if something had been triggered by the man's words. "Where are we to congregate?"_

_"The temple," the bald man said shortly. "And Lucius, be aware- Nagini's hungry." The silvery-haired man's eyes flashed, and he lunged for the bald man. But to no avail. The shorter man had already vanished into the mist._

_Lucius__ beckoned to the other men in the rowboats, who instantly followed. They quickly clamored up winding stone steps, until at last they reached the ancient place where a rather regal-looking stone altar stood, and behind it, a skeletal man and a giant snake. _

_Almost as if they had been forced down by an invisible hand, the group of men following Lucius immediately kneeled upon seeing this man, who spoke in a high whisper. "Aaah, Lucius. Wormtail here says you bring news." Again, the short, rodent-like man was at his side, smirking. Trying to avert his eyes so he wouldn't lose his temper, Lucius wrenched his gaze away from Wormtail and settled it on the eyes of his master._

_"Yes, My Lord. The wizarding world grieves, for one of their most beloved has fallen ill." The red-eyed man raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, obviously questioning Lucius. _

_"Go on, Lucius, I am most interested." Voldemort brought his lips into a smile, long hands stroking his chin._

_"Deathly ill."__ With those last words, Voldemort laughed- a spine-tingling sound that made the short hairs on Lucius' neck stand up. _

_"Lucius, I am most impressed. You and your brother-in-law continue your work concerning the welfare of the children. Do not harm the Key's friend, as I doubt that Williams is willing to give up his last daughter just yet. No, do not harm the Key or her friends until my command. Keep your watch, and stay on guard. Lord Voldemort appreciates this, I hope you understand."_

_"Yes, My Lord," Lucius whispered as he sunk onto his knees again. "Once the Minister is dead, you will have a breach in their defenses."_

* * *

The hospital wing, for once, was dead silent. White faces stared back at Harry, who eyed them back with annoyance.

"What?" he said irritably. "That's what I saw, I'm telling the truth."

"We don't doubt that, Potter," Professor McGonagall said finally. She was whiter than before, and her hat was completely nonexistent.

"What Minerva is trying to say is, if these first years are in danger, as you fear, then we must act quickly to take the proper precautions to ensure their safety." Dumbledore said. His eyes seemed faded, like he was slowly draining of energy and power. However, that did not seem to afflict him, for the next thing he said was, "Time for some chocolate, eh, Harry? I do believe that I have some of your favorite Honeydukes brand for you."

As he was handed the parcel, Harry stared at the aging man, who grinned back. "Thank you, Professor, but how'd you know that my favorite Honeydukes chocolate flavor is vanilla mint swirl?"

"Aah," said Dumbledore, "As one of my favorite men in history said, 'Ask me no questions, and I shall tell you no lies.'" He winked at Harry, then strode out of the room, followed by McGonagall.

"What was that about?" Ron said, moving over to the vacant chair beside the hospital bed Harry occupied.

"Dunno," Harry shrugged. He unwrapped the package and offered the chocolate around.

"I wish I knew what he was talking about, though."

"That's okay, Harry," Ron said, smiling. He turned around. "Oy, Hermione! Bit of research for you. Who said, 'I'll tell no lies if you ask no questions' or some rubbish like that?"

Hermione groaned. "Ron, I don't know. Do I look like a walking encyclopedia to you?"

Ron grinned. "Well, you know what they say. If the shoe fits-"

"Ronald Weasley, you had better not finish that sentence if you don't want to spend the holidays sharing a room with Percy, because I'll give your usual room to Hermione when she and Harry come Christmas," Mrs. Weasley said sharply, not looking up from her knitting. It strangely resembled a circus tent, but looked to be one of the famous Weasley sweaters. Harry guessed that if he had to bet on it, he'd give all the gold in his vault saying that it was a holiday sweater for Hagrid.

"Harry and Hermione are coming to the Burrow for Christmas?" Ron said hopefully. He elbowed Harry eagerly. "I'll bet that everyone's coming home for Christmas, so you'll get to see- Hey!" He turned to his mother again. "Did you say that I'd have to share with _Percy_?"

_"_That's exactly what I said," Mrs. Weasley answered. She lowered her eyes so Harry wouldn't see her obvious discomfort of broaching the next subject. "Only we're not having Christmas at the Burrow."

"No Christmas at the Burrow?" Ron asked incredulously. "But how can we have Hermione and Har-" he stopped talking abruptly, staring at his mother. Harry craned his neck to see around Ron's mop of red hair, to confirm his fears. When she looked up again, she was crying.

"Oh, Harry," she sobbed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and throwing her arms around his neck, "I'm so sorry, I know you probably don't want to go back there after what happened, but I just couldn't let the Order down. Besides, Remus will be all alone, and you know what it's like to spend holidays alone, don't you?"

Harry felt numb. Here was the woman he thought of as close to a mother he could get, embracing him like he was part of her own family, one of her own children. And she was unhappy because she was worried that the thought of returning to Grimmauld Place after Sirius's death would upset him. She was one of the few people he considered family; one of the people he knew he was loved by.

"Mrs. Weasley, it's okay," he assured her, patting her head awkwardly, just as Ron had done numerous times when Hermione had lost her nerves and wrapped her arms around his neck. "It's okay, I know it's convenient for the Order, I could never make them give something as good as that up, because it just happened to be Sirius's old house."

"Are you sure?" whispered Mrs. Weasley, trying to dry her eyes with her scarf and flatten his unruly hair at the same time. "Remus was so worried that you wouldn't want to come because of it, and if you don't, or if you change your mind about coming, we can arrange with Dumbledore to bring everyone here, and shut the Order down for the holidays. It's your choice, Harry. Whatever you want." She squeezed him tightly in reassurance.

"Thanks," Harry said as he hugged her back.

* * *

Halfway through an enormous essay assigned for the next Transfiguration class, Dakota heard her name being called. She was in the common room, to the side of a flickering fire. The seat she'd chosen was actually quite unnoticeable, as it was situated in one of the many cylindrical windows in the tower. This way, she had thought, if she saw Millie coming, she could make a clean getaway or pretend that she wasn't there. However, it was plain to see that her plan wasn't working very well.

"Dakota!" Millie strode over to her, gasping for breath. "We need to talk." She looked down at her expectantly.

"Oh?" Dakota instantly regretted sounding bored, as Millie's face paled, and her eyes lowered. Then they began to speak at the same time.

"Look, I'm sorry I overreacted-"

"I'm sorry I wasn't being more sensitive-"

"-Put me in a bad mood, wasn't your fault-"

"-If I'd learn to keep my mouth shut from time to time-"

Millie and Dakota both stopped abruptly, blushing furiously. "Go on," they chorused. When they realized what they'd just done, they pointed at the other and said in unison, "You first."

It was Dakota who finally took initiative. "So we both overreacted, and were complete gits to each other, and we're both sorry. Friends again?"

Millie smiled. "Friends again."

The next morning, the morning of the first Quidditch match of the season, they awoke bright and early to see the still form of Professor McGonagall standing above them, eyes wide, face stark white. "Both of you need to come with me to the headmaster's office right away. I'm afraid it is very urgent."

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you all will bear with us, and restrain yourselves from throwing butcher knives at our heads. **That doesn't exactly sound like fun.** No, really? I never would have noticed. **Ha. Ha. Very funny.** I thought so. **I DIDN'T!** Weellll, that's because-(lowers voice to a whisper)-you're a git. **Hmmmm, it sounds like you're saying that I'm a git, but I know you wouldn't do that. Right?** (cue in the chirping crickets) **Not funny.** Any questions you have, put them in that little box thing that comes up when you review, and we'll try to answer them when we acknowledge your questions or somehow work the solution into the story. **Yeah, we're gonna try to answer all of our reviews. No matter how many their are.** Yup yup. Okay, we need to go now. **Aah, yes, we do.** Much to do, Pig's story to write...**Did you say that out loud? (raises eyebrows at Dufoli, who smiles sheepishly at Siaryst)** No.....you're hearing things... -Siaryst & Dufoli


	7. The Teacher

**The Will of the Wands**

* * *

****

**Chapter 7 – The Teacher**

* * *

****

Millie was so scared, she could have (and probably would have, if the circumstances had not been so grave) wet her pants. Less than twelve hours after she and Dakota had made up after their fight, both of them were being taken to the Headmaster's office. For what, she was completely unsure of.

She glanced at Dakota, who, in her blue flannel pajamas, looked like a chastised child at a late-night slumber party. She was hoping that they could communicate silently through their facial expressions, but unfortunately the dark-haired girl wasn't paying attention.

Millie sighed softly, trying not to attract the attention of the obviously distraught headmistress. Somehow, with things looking as bleak as they did, Millie thought it wise not to cause unnecessary havoc. Peeves could take care of that perfectly fine on his own.

Professor McGonagall halted then, interrupting Millie of her thoughts. In front of them was a particularly ugly stone gargoyle, which seemed to be sneering at them with an expression similar to the one Dakota's cousin wore permanently. Without hesitation, Professor McGonagall gave the password, "Jelly slugs."

The gargoyle, as if brought to life, skittered to one side, allowing the trio to walk towards a rotating spiral staircase. McGonagall motioned to them, and the girls obediently hopped on, both scared out of their minds of what was to come.

* * *

"Now, while we have no sufficient evidence that you are in immediate danger, both Professors McGonagall and Flitwick agree with me that young Mr. Potter's dream should not be taken lightly," Professor Dumbledore told the four first years. Sitting side by side, Millie, Dakota, Alexis, and Madison were in shock.

"Has he had these dreams before?" blurted Dakota. Realizing how rude she must have sounded, she clapped her hand over her mouth and blushed. She imagined her mother's reaction if she ever found out how skeptical her daughter had been of the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Yes, he has," replied Dumbledore. "Please do not refrain from asking any questions; I usually find that by asking what we wish to know, our minds will go further on the road to understanding."

"So what does this mean?" Alexis demanded. She looked like she was about to cry, but managed to control herself. "What's going to happen? Are we going to be locked up in the common room? Are people going to follow us around wherever we go? Because if that has to happen, I want to make it clear that no one, not even Oliver Wood, is going to follow me into the loos." Professor McGonagall gasped in shock, and Dumbledore smirked in spite of himself.

"I assure you, Miss VanCarte that we will not install proper means of protection without consulting you, and if it comes to the extremity that you must be followed, invisibility cloaks will be used to conceal those doing the following." The headmaster stood, and began to pace back and forth in front of the merrily crackling fire.

"Albus, how safe are they, as of right now?" Professor Flitwick inquired, swinging his feet nervously in front of him. He and McGonagall were seated on either side of Dumbledore's chair, and because of his size, Flitwick was propped up by large feather pillows.

"As of now?" he repeated.

"Yes. Does...You-Know-Who...seem to have immediate plans for them?" Flitwick eyed the girls nervously.

"Um, hello? Right next to you," Madison said disgustedly. Both Flitwick and McGonagall stared at her. "Well, you two're talking like we're not even here, and we don't have a choice in the matter."

"But you don't," McGonagall said slowly.

Madison glared at her. "We may not be able to stop You-Know-Who from planning anything, but can't we...oh, I don't know, get trained up a bit in case of anything happening? Or at least being able to choose our own forms of protection?"

"I really do-" McGonagall began.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Dumbledore interrupted. Everyone in the room stopped, mouths open. Dakota was the first to recover.

"It is?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, twirling the end of his beard between his thumb and forefinger. "To take a stand and be ready for the unexpected is exactly what we wanted the Will of the Wands to spark in young people like yourselves. I will arrange for you four to train under someone very special, someone who knows exactly how important being able to defend yourself is when facing Voldemort."

"Who?" Alexis and Millie chorused, curious as to whom their 'special teacher' would be. Dakota and Madison nodded emphatically. Dumbledore only shook his head and gave them a secretive smile that rivaled that of the Mona Lisa's.

"You'll see, all in good time."

* * *

"I dunno," Madison said as she and Alexis carefully made their way to the library to meet their new teacher. It had been one week since their emergency meeting with Dumbledore in his office. "I 'spect it's a teacher, otherwise we would be meeting them somewhere else. I mean, who really spends time in there, anyway?"

"Well," Alexis said thoughtfully, trying to draw her hair into a ponytail as they walked. "There was that Gryffindor girl that helped us get to the common room, d'you remember her?"

"Oh!" Madison said, "Uh...Holly? No, that's not right...H…something beginning with H...Hermione!" The girl smiled triumphantly.

"Yes!" exclaimed Alexis. "That's it! Boy, you're brilliant, Mad. No wonder you're a Ravenclaw." Madison giggled and took a dramatic, sweeping bow, which sent Alexis into hysterics.

"Thank you, ladies and...well, ladies," she said in a mock-theatrical voice. She turned just in time to walk through Nearly Headless Nick, who looked absolutely shocked at her absurd behavior.

"My dear child, what do you think you are doing?" He adjusted his ornate collar gruffly, taking no notice that he hadn't stopped and spared her the feeling of walking through an ice-cold waterfall. "The nerve of some of you! Honestly!" With that, he glided off in the direction he'd been heading, leaving Madison and Alexis feeling properly reprimanded.

"It's pretty pathetic that we're ashamed of ourselves because of a _ghost_," Alexis mused a couple of minutes later as they neared the library. Madison laughed, then stopped abruptly. Madam Pince, the elderly woman who resembled a rather large stuffed vulture, was giving them a look so evil it had to have belonged to a former Slytherin.

"There aren't any teachers here," whispered Alexis, "Except for ol' Beady Eyes over there." She motioned to Madam Pince, who, after reassuring herself that the two were not miniature Fred and George Weasleys, had taken to bullying three sixth years from Ravenclaw. Madison started to giggle, and covered her mouth with her hands. "Shut up, stupid! She'll hear you!"

"I'm sorry," Madison gasped, "But just last week I heard Hermione's friend Ron call McGonagall that." Alexis erupted into giggles then, and all hope for being discrete was lost.

Madam Pince swooped down over the two of them, promising them if they didn't keep quiet, they would get a month's worth of detentions that would be sure to stop their constant chattering. "Disrupting the peace of the library, honestly!"

Scared out of their wits, Madison and Alexis backed into a corner and slid into two rather old armchairs that faced the door, ensuring that they wouldn't miss their teacher's entrance. Dakota and Millie soon joined them, and the four thoroughly discussed the postponement of the first Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin on account of the teacher's lack of protection for the students. About ten minutes later, a lone figure walked through the door. After looking around, he shocked the girls by immediately making a beeline for them.

"Hello there," he said. "I suppose we'll be spending a bit of time together, eh?"

Madison and Alexis looked at each other in awe. Harry Potter was their teacher? They both managed a weak smile. "Yeah, I guess," Madison said finally. He stared at them for a minute, then shrugged.

"Wait a minute," Dakota spoke up. "You're our teacher? I thought some doddery old professor like...like..."

"Like?" Harry prompted with a grin. "Sorry, you're all stuck with me. Kind of horrible to be you at the moment, isn't it?"

"Er, no, that's not what I meant," Dakota said quickly. She wrapped a strand of long black hair around her finger.

"I know," Harry grinned. Then he addressed the rest of them by clapping his hands once. "Okay, um, I'm pretty new at this teaching stuff-"

"Oh, give it up, Harry," Hermione said from behind him. She winked at the four dumbstruck girls and said, "They all know you've been running the D.A. since day one."

Harry blushed. "Okay, then. Er, Herm- I mean, my friends Hermione and Ron, who are also Gryffindor prefects, will be helping me out." He paused. "I dunno if I can handle you all at once, you're so unruly and loud."

Silence.

"Erm…it was supposed to be a joke."

"Sorry, " Madison said, looking over her shoulder, "The last time we laughed in this place, which was coincidentally when we were waiting for you to show up, Ol' Beady Eyes over there told us to shut up or we'd get detentions lasting until our hair turned the color of her tongue."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Well then," he said after a very pregnant pause. "Shall we?"

"Shall we what, precisely?" asked Alexis. She starred at the older students, her foot tapping incessantly.

"Er, go to the Room of Requirement to start your training," Hermione supplied nervously. She was greeted by four sets of raised eyebrows. Harry shook his head.

"Never mind. Follow me."

The four girls followed the elder Gryffindors obediently until they were all gasping for breath once they reached the seventh floor corridor. Gripping her knees, Dakota rasped, "Where the bloody hell is this room?"

Hermione whipped her head around, her hair swishing like the Whomping Willow, making funny tutting noises with her tongue. "Please! How old are you, eleven? Ron, I told you you were a bad influence!" She smacked her redheaded boyfriend on the head.

"OY! 'Mione, what the bl-" She held her hand up.

"See what I mean? Don't even think about finishing that sentence, Ronald Weasley-"

"Will you two stop your bloody bickering?" Harry interrupted. When Hermione's angry eyes flashed in his direction, he attempted a Gilderoy Lockart-esque grin. "'Mione, give it up, will you?" Hermione pursed her lips, as if she was considering having another go at the both of them, but Harry stopped her just in time. "C'mon, Hermione, the Room of Requirement is just down the hall-"

"That's exactly what she said forty bloody minutes ago!" Millie, normally the composed one of the group, said adamantly.

"It's just around the corner, come on," Harry prodded. When no one would move, he said, "You only have to play the part of four doddering cows being shepherded to the butcher for three more seconds. I promise."

"Okay," Madison, the leader, said. She had begun to walk down the corridor with a renewed morale when she twirled around. "Did you just call me a cow?"

Ron sniggered. "Yes," he said helpfully. Harry glared at him. "Oh, well. I know that he's wrong, as usual, so there's nothing to worry about, eh?"

Madison considered this, and kept walking. Hiding a bemused grin, Harry strode after her.

* * *

Millie's first though after walking into the Room of Requirement was, _I wonder if I thought of chocolate chip ice cream hard enough would it appear?_ As if on cue, an enormous bowl of the named confection, topped with a mountain of whipped cream, presented itself, resting on a table at her elbow.

Harry cleared his throat, and she blushed gracefully. "Sorry," she said, not sounding the least bit apologetic, "I was just trying to see what would happen if I concentrated on it." She picked up the spoon and scooped up some ice cream. "Cheers."

"Ah, well, perhaps she's got a good idea, Harry," Ron said hopefully, elbowing his best mate in the ribs, "Please, can we have food? Please, please, pretty please?" He clasped his hands together and dropped to his knees. "Oh great teacher, may you grant us permission for food, much like the delectable treat clever Millie conjured!"

Hermione clenched her fist in front of her mouth to keep Ron from seeing her laugh. Harry flicked his gaze from Ron at his feet to Dakota, who was lounging on the armrest of a couch, and back to Hermione. He grinned slyly. "Why, Hermione, is there something you wish to share with the rest of the class?"

Hermione glared at him. Upon hearing his girlfriend's name being mentioned, Ron craned his neck around so he was facing her. "What's so funny, 'Mione? Is it me on my knees, pleading with Harry to loosen up and let us have some food? Because," he said, struggling to stand up, "If that's what it is, I'll ask the room not to give you peanut butter pecan."

Hermione's eyes grew wide, and she quickly assured him that it was not him she was laughing at, only the situation. "Please don't take away the peanut butter," she said in a somewhat small voice.

After they had finished their various dishes of ice cream, Ron stretched out on the foot of the couch. "So, what do we do next?" he asked cheerfully.

* * *

"I can't get it right!" Dakota snarled, throwing her arms up in frustration. Her wand lay forgotten on the floor, next to her shoes.

"That's fine," Hermione soothed, "It took me a while to get it, too. Remember, you don't have to excel to be good."

"That's easy for you to say," muttered Dakota under her breath. She glared at a spot on the wall above Hermione's head as Harry made his way over to them.

"How's she doing?" she heard Harry ask.

"Fine, except that she's giving up too easily. She wants to get it perfect, and by doing so, she's wearing herself out," Hermione said. Harry smirked. "What?" Hermione demanded.

"Sounds like someone else I know," he said. When Hermione turned red, he said, "Go work with Millie for a while, she seems to have down the theory, but needs work on the wand movements, okay?"

Dakota pretended not to notice Hermione's feet move farther away as she walked off in search of Millie. She screwed up her face and tried to concentrate on the concept of the spell they'd been practicing, a simple Sheild Charm, which, at the moment, didn't seem so simple. She looked up at Harry, feeling extremely pathetic.

"What?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What d'you mean, what?" Dakota said irritably.

"I mean, why do you look like someone just put a barrel full of Dungbombs under your nose? You seem to be getting the hang of it, try it again." Harry gave her what he hoped to be an encouraging smile.

"Are you joking?" Dakota asked. When Harry made no signs of having made a joke, she sighed. "Okay, then, I'll try it, but don't blame me if you're bald for a while or something." Harry jumped back, this time jokingly.

Dakota tossed her thick braid over her shoulder, drew in a deep breath, and raised her wand. "Protego!"

As if shocked by an invisible electric circuit, Dakota was zapped on her hand. "Ow!" she cried, grasping it with the other hand. Harry motioned to her to uncover it, and when she did, he grimaced. From the knuckles down had been turned a crispy-looking black, almost exactly like Seamus Finnigan's eyebrows after his "rum incident".

"Perhaps you should go to the Hospital Wing," he said shakily, trying to recover from the sight of charred skin. "C'mon, I'll walk you." He motioned to Hermione, who was mightily trying to avoid Millie, who was controlling a mouse that had been enlarged five times its natural size. "Hermione, I'm going to bring Dakota to the Hospital Wing!"

"Okay," Hermione said, stepping up on a very high chair. "Ron and I will handle things."

As she and Harry made their way through the silver door, watching the hallways very carefully for signs of Filch, the caretaker, or Mrs. Norris, his mangy cat. When Harry surmised the coast was clear, he motioned to Dakota, and they set off for the other end of the castle.

After a few minutes of silent walking, Dakota spoke. "What was Hermione talking about when she said you ran the D.A.? What's that?"

Harry's mind went blank. He wanted to tell her, because, after all, Voldemort was supposed to be after one of them as well as him, but something made him play stupid. "Er, she was referring to the...er, Gobstones club I founded...uh, when we were in second year." He glanced at her face, making sure she was buying it. She was.

"There's a Gobstones club?" She scowled. "How come nobody told me? I'd like to join. What do I have to do to get in? I'm pretty good-"

"It's a dead club," Harry assured her. Dakota's face fell, and he instantly regretted telling her such a lie. However, the D.A. didn't contain any first years. In the time of Umbridge, they weren't trustworthy. Not that that scum Edgecombe was, but still.

"I told you I'd do something to mess it up," Dakota said as they turned the corner.

"Er, sorry?" Harry said, snapping out of his trance.

"You said to give it another go, and I warned you that I would mess it up somehow," Dakota repeated, referring to the Shield Charm.

Harry didn't say anything, just pushed the door to the Hospital Wing open and held it for the young girl as she cradled her burnt hand in her good one.

* * *

"You should have come directly to me!" an annoyed Madam Pomfrey clucked. "Just look at her hand, Mr. Potter! Do you really think that it is wise to teach first years such complicated spells?" She eyed him suspiciously. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Yes," Harry snapped, causing the elderly matron's eyes to widen in surprise. "I do think it's a good idea they know how to cast Shield Charms. Why? Because Lord Voldemort is coming for them. I know. I saw him and his Death Eaters. Professor Dumbledore trusted their training to me, and I sure as hell hope I know what they're capable of."

Madam Pomfrey's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Potter, I do not think that your tone of voice is necessary. I was merely questioning whether you had thought about the risks you would face in teaching these girls."

"Yes, actually," Harry replied sarcastically, "The risk is greater if they don't have anything to defend themselves with, don't you think?" When the matron failed to answer, he smirked. "There you go, then."

Dakota, who had watched their little exchange with an expression bordering on scared, amused, and annoyed, spoke up, startling both of the other occupants. "Are you quite finished yet? I still have forty-five minutes before I have to be back in Gryffindor Tower, and I want to have another go at the charm, if you don't mind."

Madam Pomfrey nodded briskly, while Harry stared at her with wide eyes. He waited until the nurse was done wrapping Dakota's hand and lecturing the both of them about the dangers of complex spells before dragging her out of the wing.

"I can't believe you said that," Harry said in amazement. He ran his calloused fingers through his hair. "Y'know, I've known you for approximately two weeks and you still come up with the most amusing scenes."

"You know what? I don't need to hear it from you, too," Dakota said irritably.

"Sorry?"

"I have two sisters, y'know? And both of them are way more talented than I could ever be, and if learning that stupid charm is what'll bring my parents to be proud of me, so be it." Dakota reached behind her and tugged on her braid, unraveling it with a slightly far-off expression on her face.

"That's not-"

"You know," she said, stopping in front of Harry, "I'm not for people's entertainment. And if that's all you think of me as, perhaps I'll learn things on my own."

Harry looked as though someone had hauled off and slapped him. "I didn't mean- I don't-Dakota..." He leaned up against a nearby wall and sighed. "Doing things on your own isn't the way to go," he said finally.

"Oh, and I suppose you know exactly how that goes?" Dakota said sarcastically, making to pass him.

He stopped her from going any further, and moved to stare directly into her face. "Actually, yes, I do." His eyes grew darker behind the thin frames of his glasses, and he felt a surge of smugness when he saw Dakota's dark eyes widen under his gaze. "My parents died when I was a year old. I bet you already know that, so I'll give you a bit more of what my life is like. The family- if you could call it that- I grew up with ignored me and still managed to make my life miserable for eleven years. Then, my third year, I find out that two of my parents' closest friends are still alive. Then I find out that the third wasn't, in fact, murdered by one of the other two and is still in cahoots with Voldemort. And then, last year, my godfather, the one who supposedly killed the one in with Voldemort, was killed by his cousin. And now I'm standing here, trying to prevent you from being killed as well by going off in a huff and doing things your own way."

"I'm sorry," Dakota said, lowering her eyes. She had a feeling that Harry was wondering exactly why he had agreed to tutor the most distraught of the four, and that made her quite unhappy.

She saw his eyes flicker with contemplation, and he grinned. "C'mon, you still have-" he checked his watch "-forty-three minutes until you're supposed to be back to the Tower."

She grinned back at him. "Yeah, and I believe that I have some catching up to do."

The two Gryffindors walked in companionable silence down the corridors, not noticing a crouched figure behind the statue of Grough the Giggly. His voice squeaked as he spoke to his accomplice, who moved from underneath an Invisibility Cloak.

"All in good time, sir. You'll have her and her friends soon, I promised the Dark Lord." The man, who had folded the cloak neatly in his lap, smirked as he watched the two disappear.

"Yes, I suppose I can wait. Come, Wormtail. We must be going." He laughed. "The Minister is waiting for us at the end of this fortnight. We have a special presentation for him and his daughter."

* * *

A/N: Perhaps now would be a good time to explain our...lack of updates. **See, we've had the fifth and sixth chapters hanging around for a while, but- **Siaryst's in charge of posting. It's her fault. **HEY!** It's true. **(Siaryst blushes)** **I can't help the fact that I'm...busy!** Well, the only thing y'all can hold against me is my lovely case of writer's block, but it's been cured. **Yeah. (snickers) Chocolate milk and cookies work wonders, don't they?** Actually, if truth be told, it's cranberry bread and water, but whatever fits your fancy. **Well, then! I'm SOOOOOO sorry I got confused. Pardon.** Good, you should be ashamed. How COULD you? You spend many hours on the phone with my sorry bum, and you can't even remember what food is motivational? What kind of co-author ARE you? **Speaking of fanfiction, I hope you all are aware of J-14 magazine's Lifetime Story booklet thing on 'Movie Magic' which contains specific reference to our community of fanfiction.** If you weren't, well, go to your nearest bookstore. It's there, hopefully. **It's got Dan Radcliffe on the front.** (Dufoli sighs with dreamy expression donning face) Be sure to check on the fanfics they mention. Special congrats for being mentioned goes out to Anya for her "Naked Quidditch Match" fic. **Verrrrry**** good.** Not found on , but probably somewhere else. Keep your eyes peeled. T**ootles, and be sure to review! (wink)** Your Ever-Faithful, Still Working Happily and Laughing While Doing So, Quirky, One-of-a-Kind -**actually, technically it's two of a kind.** Technicalities, technicalities! Continuing...Two-of-a-Kind, Siaryst & Dufoli....Why does your name come first? **Er****...somehow I think you'll object to 'because I'm better than you,' and 'alphabetical order' doesn't work, so....how about we go with, 'because Siaryst-Dufoli sounds better than Dufoli-Siaryst.'** Oh. Okay. (grins stupidly).


	8. Quidditch and a Death

**The Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Quidditch and a Death**

* * *

"So who do you think'll win?" Madison asked eagerly three days later. She and Alexis were sitting amongst their fellow Ravenclaws at their House table the morning of the rescheduled match, careful to choose spots slightly apart from the others.

"I'm not sure," Alexis said truthfully, spooning herself some eggs while trying to memorize uses for various feathers in everyday potions. "Can you believe that Snape had the nerve to assign homework on a weekend?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," a voice said, cutting off Madison. They both looked up to see the lopsided grin of Ron Weasley. "Harry told me to tell you, eight o'clock, the R.O.R. We're going back over hexes and the like." He shuddered. "I don't really fancy being Stunned again, but don't tell Harry that. See you at the match!"

"Cool," Madison said, watching the elder student's retreating back. "I wonder why Harry didn't tell us?"

"I dunno," Alexis replied, flipping pages in her book. "Come on, are you going to study for this exam before Snape gives it, or after?"

"Actually, I was thinking of doing it after," Madison grinned at Alexis' shocked expression. "It'd save time, wouldn't it?" Alexis drew herself up, and brushed her red hair away from her face as she began her 'you'll never learn anything in accordance to the teacher's plan if you don't make an effort to study' rant, something that Madison heard so much she could recite parts.

"Okay, okay, okay! You win! I'll study." Glancing at Alexis' triumphant face, she added, "If I can find time."

* * *

"And Malfoy comes in with decidedly dirty play, nothing new," the Gryffindor commentator, an Irish boy Madison didn't know, announced over the purple megaphone. Both Madison and Alexis were dressed in their Ravenclaw scarves and waving miniature flags, courtesy of Luna Lovegood, a nice but decidedly strange fifth year in their House.

"Boo!" They yelled together. Malfoy righted himself on his Nimbus 2001 with a smirk- he'd just prevented the Ravenclaw Chaser from catching the Quaffle by grabbing her broom tail.

"Cummings passes to Harrison, Harrison swerves up the pitch, dodges two Beaters, can't tell which one's Crabbe and which one's Goyle, but that doesn't matter- and Beechtree snags the Quaffle! Ravenclaw in possession..."

Katrina Beechtree, a blonde second year, bolted up the pitch with the Quaffle tucked under her arm. She grinned at Goyle (or was it Crabbe?), and tossed the ball back to Fiona Michaels, who immediately put on a burst of speed and hurtled it at the Slytherin goalposts.

"And Michaels shoots...c'mon, Fiona...it's good!" A surge of cheers sounded from the Ravenclaw stands. "Slytherin in possession, Buchanan tosses it to Montague, Bulstrode gets it to- oh, nice grab, there, Michaels! Ravenclaw in possession-"

A loud 'boo' rose from the stands; either Crabbe or Goyle had taken their Beater's bat and hurtled it at Fiona, who caught it directly in the stomach and nearly fell off her broom.

"And it looks like it's a penalty shot for Ravenclaw..." Seamus was saying. Fiona put it in the goal, no problem, and the game continued. Bulstrode, apparently angered by how easily Fiona scored, snatched the Quaffle and bolted up the field. She swerved around Fiona and Katrina, headed straight for the third Chaser, Amy Wu.

Loud hisses of disgust rose from the stands, drowning out the strained cheers from the Slytherins. "Ooh, and Bulstrode deliberately checks Wu," Seamus was saying angrily, "C'mon, ref, open your eyes!"

Professor McGonagall started at this, and attempted, like she had many times with Lee Jordan, to snatch the purple megaphone away from the enraged commentator. However, like his predecessor, Seamus kept a firm grip on it, promising that he would keep his tongue in check.

"Ravenclaw in possession, Wu streaks up the field...and throws the Quaffle at Bulstrode!" Amy Wu glared at Millicent, who was hunched over in pain. Amy smirked, her dark eyes flashing, as she returned to her post. Seeing this, Malfoy quickly directed Cummings and Harrison up the field.

"Harrison with the Quaffle...what's wrong, Willy? Can you think for yourself, or does your fearless captain have to tell you to breathe as well?" Harrison jerked at the sound of his name, and dropped the ball in alarm. Draco threw his arms up in frustration as Millicent streaked after the ball on its way down.

Unfortunately for her, Katrina was a bit faster, as she snatched the Quaffle from her outstretched hands, and passed to Amy. Back and forth, up the field, like a well-oiled machine, the Ravenclaw Chasers mowed down every opponent. As they neared the goalposts, Matthew Buchanan readied himself. Amy faked a throw to the left post, and then put in the right.

"Ravenclaw scores, making it thirty to zero!" As Seamus announced the score, a wild scene started to unraveled. Finally spotting the Snitch hovering around the left Ravenclaw goalpost, Cho Chang had began hurtling toward it, causing the Keeper, Topaz Valisari, to duck out of the way. She had almost gotten it when Draco interfered. Thrusting his arm upwards, he knocked her leg off the end of the broom, making it difficult to control her balance. With a screech, Cho began to slip off the end of her broom, managing at the last second to hang on.

Taking advantage of her inability to fly, Draco moved in on the Snitch himself. However, it seemed to realize what he had done to Cho, for it immediately took off in the opposite direction. Cursing under his breath, Draco followed the snitch, not taking note that Cho had steadied herself on her broom once more and was tailing him.

The only thing going through Draco's mind was, _'Get to the bloody Snitch before Chang does.' _Never once, during his chase, did he suspect that she would be able to adjust herself in time. It came to a great disappointment then, as well as a great surprise, that she knocked his hand out of the way at the last second and nabbed the Snitch for Ravenclaw to secure the win.

"Ravenclaw wins!" Seamus was shouting over the megaphone as the school cheered below. Blinded by his rage, Draco threw himself at Cho, catching her off guard. Abandoning all restraint, his fist connected with her face as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Professor McGonagall shouted at him with the megaphone.

The end result was quite a sight- Draco had a bloody lip and a scratch running from his left eye to his ear, courtesy of Cho's long fingernails, while Cho suffered a bloody (and most likely broken) nose. As they floated guiltily down, they braced themselves for what was bound to come their way.

"Of all the disgusting, foul, unsportsmanlike things to do," Madam Hooch shouted, hands on her hips. "You both could have caused some serious damage! Mister Malfoy, do you realize that Miss Chang could have broken her back when you jumped on her broom? And Miss Chang, of all people, putting up a fight! I'm very disappointed with the both of you! I'm removing you from your respective teams until further notice, and you both will receive a month's worth of detention, to be served every other night. Do I make myself clear?"

The two nodded meekly. "All right, then. To your dormitories, both of you!" They left obediently, taking great care not to walk too close to one another.

* * *

As soon as Cho stormed through the common room entrance, her fellow Ravenclaws erupted in cheers. Cho stopped in her tracks and looked about sheepishly. A banner that flashed the Ravenclaw colors read, 'Ravenclaw Eagles Fight to the Death!', complete with an illustration of a horrified-looking Draco wrestling with a smug Cho. She made her way through the crowd, albeit slowly, as people kept congratulating her on 'finally putting Malfoy in his place,' to a table laden with food, where Madison and Alexis sat.

"Awesome job, Cho," Madison greeted her with a grin, holding out a plate for her. Cho accepted it gratefully, and began filling her plate with the food that someone had gotten from the kitchens.

"Thanks," she said, scooping some ice cream into a dish, "I wouldn't have lost it if that-" -here she mumbled a few choice words under her breath- "-hadn't jumped on my broom. Anyway, you shouldn't have heard that. So, how's your first month been? It seems like I haven't seen you in ages."

"Well, we're supposed to be taking pri-" Alexis began, before Madison clapped her hand over her mouth. "-Mpph wwpph thwt," she finished. Cho raised an eyebrow, surveying the two first-years over her cup of pumpkin juice.

"I see." She drained the cup, and then stood with her plate in hand. "Excuse me, but I have to speak with a few people. I'll see you later, okay?"

As soon as she left, Madison turned on Alexis. "Stupid!" she said. "We're not supposed to tell anyone about that!"

"Sorry," Alexis replied angrily. "Though I don't see what the problem is, really." Madison rolled her eyes.

"You, a Ravenclaw. Honestly! We can't say anything because-" Madison lowered her voice, glancing around the common room, "-Harry said that Voldemort has spies everywhere, and we have to be careful, no matter where we are."

"Speaking of which, when's the next 'you-know-what'?"

"I dunno," Madison said thoughtfully, picking a croissant off her plate. "I guess we'll see."

* * *

"I swear, if Snape tells me to redo this essay _one more time_…OOF!" Dakota scowled at a laughing Hermione from underneath a pile of large and very dusty library books, all of which had fallen on her moments before. Hermione offered a hand, which the peeved Indian girl gratefully took.

"You were saying?"

"Right. If Snape tells me to redo this bloody essay one more time, I swear by Harry Potter's Firebolt that I'll write it all in Sri Lankan, just to spite him." She grimaced, realizing how much of a mess she made. "I mean, look at this mess! All to get this stupid '_Five Thousand Ways__ to Brew Sheep's Eyes,' _which, of course, just _had _to be on the top shelf..."

"You should have asked for help," Hermione said lightly, settling down in an armchair, pulling the dusty tome towards her.

"Hermione, do I look like the type to ask for help?" Dakota asked, hands on her hips. The look the small girl gave her reminded Hermione of her friend Harry, who, at the moment, was late.

"No, actually," Hermione began, wondering how much she should say. She chose her next words carefully. "Right now you remind me so much of Harry, I don't think it's even funny. Perhaps you two have been spending too much time together, and he's rubbing off on you."

"What d'you mean?" Dakota asked suspiciously, eyeing the older girl. "Are you saying that I'm acting like Harry?"

"Well, not really-" Hermione began.

"Hi, sorry I'm late," Harry cut her off, throwing his bag down in the seat next to Hermione. "I just got out of detention with Filch." He held up his hands, which were raw from the exposure to hot water and floor polish. "Anyway, what were you saying about acting like me?"

"Nothing," Hermione said. "Dakota asked if she really seemed like the type to ask for help, and she reminded me of you."

"I see," Harry said, his eyes narrowing. "So, where are the others?"

"Well," Hermione began, twisting a lock of bushy hair between her fingers, "I thought we'd meet here, and do some homework, since we're not able to have our training session with them tonight." She paused. "Y'know, Prefect duties and the like."

Harry cocked his head, searching Hermione's eyes intently. For the past week and a half, they'd been dodging Dakota and Millie in the corridors, when they were on their way to meet with the D.A. in the Room of Requirement. Harry had told Hermione that he felt horrible, leaving them out of the loop, but the scholarly girl surprised him with an explanation bordering on what he'd thought when he was walking Dakota to the infirmary.

* * *

_Two weeks previous_

"Well, normally I wouldn't approve, since they're our friends, even if they're a lot younger than us, but there aren't any first years in the D.A. After Edgecombe, I'm still wondering if the second and third years are trustworthy," she'd said.

"Why wouldn't they be?" Harry had asked.

"They're still trying to figure out their way around the castle," Hermione had replied carefully, as if she were speaking to a small child. "If they forget how to get to their classes, then who's to say they won't forget to keep quiet about the D.A.?"

"Dumbledore knows," Harry had retorted, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Who else is there to be afraid of?"

"Fudge," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "He and his men do routine checks in the school, haven't you seen the Ministry officials loitering outside the gates at random times? He's got some sort of invisibility cloak or something. So we've got to be on the alert. If he's prowling the school unseen, then we don't know whether or not he'll hear people talking about the D.A."

"Hermione," Harry had said slowly. "You and I are talking about it right now."

"Harry, we're in the Room of Requirement. And you have the Marauder's Map with you."

* * *

Reflecting on that brief conversation, Harry wondered if 'Prefect duties and the like,' was just that, or really code for a D.A. meeting. Not wanting to cause Dakota (or Hermione, for that matter) to suspect something, Harry pulled the D.A. galleon time-changer out of his pocket. Sure enough, the date of the next meeting was that very evening.

He looked down at the coin, then back up at Hermione, who was holding a quill and stabbing at Dakota's parchment, correcting the misspellings and grammar.

He clapped his hands together, causing Hermione to jump. "Erm, can I speak to you a moment?" He glanced at Dakota, who was engrossed in the thick volume in front of her, occasionally scribbling something down on the paper next to her. "In private?"

"Er, okay," Hermione said slowly, giving Harry a shrewd, calculating glance, much like the ones that Snape was constantly using, except for the obvious lack of loathing. If he'd looked closely enough, he'd seen that she was almost certain of what he was going to say.

Once Harry had led Hermione away from Dakota, outside the doors to the library, he leaned against a stone wall and ran his hands through his hair.

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked.

"How are we supposed to handle this?" Harry wondered aloud. "I feel like I'm turning traitor. I can't lie to them, they're on our side." Hermione opened her mouth, but he stopped her. "The training sessions and the, well, you know," he said suddenly, as a group of older Hufflepuff students stalked past, noses in the air, "the point is, they run the same way, we do the same stuff. We all have that in common. I don't see the point of doing the same thing twice. Dumbledore said...er, rather, the Sorting Hat said that if we don't try to work together from within, we'll never do anything remotely good for the cause."

"Harry, I know," Hermione began. "We can't be sure they'll like the idea of a big group. They seem to enjoy their own little sessions, why can't we-"

"Because," Harry interrupted. "We'll never know if we don't try it. And, when we finally do tell them, if we ever do, they'll wonder what else we're keeping from them. They'll feel like we've been hiding something for the whole time we've been trying to help them. I know them, they will. He stared at her. "Especially Dakota."

"Okay," Hermione sighed. "I'll tell them. One condition, though. If they don't want it, don't push."

"Fine," Harry said.

"I just don't know how the conversation's going to go," Hermione said under her breath, as she followed Harry back into the library.

* * *

Her opportunity arose during the weekend three weeks later. Dakota and Millie were playing chess by the fire, and Hermione was working at a table nearby. During a break, Millie asked, "What's that, Hermione?"

"Oh, this?" Hermione said as she tried to calculate prices in her head. "S.P.E.W."

"Spew?" Dakota pressed her hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle.

"No," Hermione replied exasperatedly. "It's S.P.E.W. It stands for the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare." She shuffled her notes, and stuck them in a manila folder. "Hey, would you two like to join?"

"Nah," Dakota said immediately. "I'd rather join a club to fight Death Eaters." She moved her queen in to check Millie's king. "I win."

"Would you?" Hermione asked, in a tone she hoped sounded innocently casual. Millie eyed her strangely.

"Yeah," she replied for her friend, shooting the older girl a questioning glance.

"Why?" Dakota asked, scooping chess pieces into her hands, depositing them in a silk drawstring bag.

"Er," Hermione began slowly, "Harry and Ron and I..." she glanced at the people sitting nearby. It was only Ginny and Colin, arguing over Chocolate Frog cards, so she continued without hesitation. "We haven't really been quite as honest with you as we should have been."

"How so?" Millie demanded quietly.

Hermione blushed, then began describing the circumstances leading up to the initial formation of Dumbledore's Army.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, as the night sky loomed over one of the most famous architectural monuments in the world, wizarding and Muggle alike, screams could be heard from somewhere beneath seconds before silence overtook them.

Exactly on hour before, a man in his late forties, with thinning hair and starched robes, hurried to an office beneath the hustle and bustle of Paris' prime attraction. Pressing a key, small enough to fit beneath a fingernail, into its slot, he waited as the door jumped open with a faint hiss. Smoke billowed from the opening, and chilling air seeped through. He vanished, the door sliding shut behind him, but not before three men in black cloaks entered without a sound behind him.

The balding man walked briskly down flight after flight after flight of cold metal stairs, pausing after a few moments to make sure he wasn't being followed. Satisfied that he was alone, he pushed through a second set of doors, using the same tiny key to open them.

By then, he had to have been a thousand feet underneath the Eiffel Tower, beneath oblivious Muggles and their flashy tourist getups and gadgets. Finally reaching his destination, the man sunk into a leather chair behind an antique desk, regarding a map behind him, swiveling back and forth as he thought out loud.

"If the German Minister is dying, then elections will begin, more powerful than ever," he mused, hand stroking a nonexistent beard. "After all, Karkaroff knows what it's like to be the head of something important, doesn't he?"

His hazel eyes grew wide. "Karkaroff is what they've wanted! Exactly! I _told_ those idiots down at Floor One that that stupid message wasn't to be taken lightly. I wonder..."

The Frenchman was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't realize that he was reaching for a framed photograph of a young girl, brown pigtails framing her smiling face. She had to be no more than five, clutching a stuffed dragon. Snapping out of his reverie, the man glanced down at the photograph and smiled. "Sophie," he said softly. He glanced at another, and reached for it. "Maria," he said. The girl was older, much older, than the other one, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, brown hair falling stylishly at her chin.

"Sir!" The man's head snapped up in surprise, and looked around wildly, immediately reaching for his wand.

"Who's there?" He rose unsteadily, wand at the ready. His calloused hand gripped his wand tightly, sweat dripping from his forehead.

"Sir, it's General Addams," the voice said calmly. "The fireplace behind you, sir."

Sure enough, when the frightened man turned to face the fire, the distinguished face of the Head Auror of the French Ministry smiled up at him.

"Er, hello, General ," the Minister said sheepishly. He cleared his throat. "Any news?"

"I'm afraid it's not of the friendly sort, sir," General Addams said gruffly.

"Well?" the Minister demanded. "What's happened?"

"Sir, Karkaroff's been found." The Minister breathed a sigh of relief.

"What's horrible about that?" he wanted to know. "You should be celebrating!"

"Not yet, sir," the man said sadly. "The German Minister is dead, sir. Gregor Fimmel died at eleven-oh-three this very night, sir. And Karkaroff has been elected the new Minister."

The French Minister gasped, and sank back into his chair, clutching his chest. Things had progressed faster than he'd thought possible. He had known that the German Minister was sick, slowly wasting away from some unknown cause that even the experts at Saint Mary's Research Institution couldn't fathom. He knew that someone wanted Karkaroff in power.

"Sir?" General Addams pressed.

"What?" he asked tiredly.

"Action?" Addams asked.

"Send spies to investigate Karkaroff," he replied at once. "I want to know exactly what he'll do with his power, and I want to know before he does it. Next, send an urgent owl to Fudge. Maybe now the blithering idiot will listen to me. Hasn't returned a single message. These British, they're all the same, power-hungry, but not willing to do a thing themselves to get it."

"Right away, sir," Addams repeated. He turned to bow out, but the Minister stopped him.

"Wait. How did Minister Fimmel die?"

Addams hesitated. "Caldari poisoning, sir."

_Of course, _the Minister thought bitterly. _Ancient...India, was it?He_ couldn't remember, exactly, but he recalled his governess speaking briefly of the drug, and what dastardly things it could do. _It controls the body by squeezing the veins, like the Devil's Snare squeezes it's prey when they wriggle too much. No wriggling required when Caldari's concerned. All you have to do is fight the control, and it kills you. Slow. Painful. Something only Karkaroff would dare to use._

"Very well," he said finally. "Find out as much as you can pertaining to the whereabouts of the Caldari plant. You are aware that it's only rumored to be found near the most sacred shrine for Buddha, which in itself, is nearly impossible to find, are you not? On record, the last time someone found the Shrine, it was over a thousand years ago."

The general nodded meekly.

The Minister slammed his fist down on his own knee, and instantly regretted it. "I want to know where it is, and I want to know NOW."

Addams nodded again, this time tipping his hat. "Yes, sir. And, now that I've given you the news, may I suggest something, sir? As a friend, and not your second-hand man?"

The Minister nodded suspiciously.

Addams smiled wanly, then said, "Andre, you need sleep. Go home to Mrs. Grandmaison and your kids. We'll have a report first thing in the morning. Good night, sir." His head disappeared from the glowing fire, and Andre Grandmaison slumped in his chair, holding his aching head in his hands.

A gentle tap on the back made him stir again, and, thinking it was his assistant, Celeste, with his Pepperup Potion, he turned. His mouth had barely opened to scream when an iron press loomed towards his chest, which was bare, his robes lying ripped and in shreds on his shoulders. The last thing the French Minister of Magic saw before seeing complete and utter darkness was the Dark Mark, embedded in the iron, sizzling hot, coming closer and closer to his chest, burning his bare flesh. Then, his eyes burned and everything went black.

Fifteen minutes after three cloaked men emerged from the private offices of the Minister, a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties strode through, accessing the security with ease. The hidden forms of Macnair, Williams, and Malfoy watched with explicit eagerness as they watched the woman begin to descend to her living nightmare.

"This is all too perfect," Williams breathed, brushing his dark hair back from his glittering eyes.

"Yes," Lucius drawled, "How suitable that the daughter of the former Minister was summoned to his private offices no less than-" he checked his silver wristwatch, "-sixteen minutes after his death?"

They slid out of their hiding spot, gliding across the polished floor without a sound. Three stories under them, Maria Grandmaison, laden with a later-night dinner sent by her mother, entered the office without a greeting. She regarded her father's turned back, and realized he'd probably not heard her come in.

"Papa, I've brought you some dinner," she said, setting the packages of roast beef and salad on his desk. He didn't answer.

"Papa?" she tried again. The man didn't move. Sensing that something wasn't right, the younger Grandmaison moved towards her father, hand outstretched. She laid her hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her. A look of absolute horror spread across her face, and she bit her knuckles to keep from screaming. She slid to the floor in shock.

Her father's corpse, propped in his leather chair, gave a sudden jolt at her movement, and his head, which had been stuck to his neck with his wand, fell to the floor and rolled towards his daughter. The eye sockets faced her, as if the eyes were fixated on her, if they had remained intact, and it was only then that Maria Grandmaison dared to scream.

* * *

A/N: Well, there's part the eight for you. **Dastardly way to end it, don't you think?** OH, I think that a sudden shock such as this will reap more faithful reviewers...hopefully. **Oh, so your method to getting people to review is to put sick and twisted death into our story!** It's not sick and twisted...well, not quite. On the verge, maybe. But not quite. This was your first shock of what's to come. **Gulp. I don't want to know what happens next, really I don't.** Hehheeeheee! It won't be as bad, or as personal. Groups, maybe. I'm still working the details. Thank Dan Brown for my sick and twisted ways. **HA! You confess that you're sick and twisted!** Well...okay, okay, you win. I'M SICK AND TWISTED! (Dufoli turns to Siaryst and glares.) Are you quite happy now? **Yes. (Siaryst gloats.)** Fine. Review! The Sick-and-Twisted Minds of Siaryst & Dufoli 


	9. The New Members

**The Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 9 – The New Members**

* * *

"So you mean to tell me that we've been accepted into a secret club training to fight Death Eaters? But what about what we've been doing?" Millie said, confused.

"I would have said something earlier, I swear, but after what happened last year with bloody Edgecombe...I didn't say that, sorry, we can't be too careful," Hermione explained. "Harry wanted to tell you, honestly, but I wouldn't let him."

Both girls turned their startled gazes to the raven-haired boy, eyes wide. He looked down at them, wondering just which one of them it was that Voldemort wanted. If he'd had to guess, it wouldn't be Madison, the American. She'd just come into the picture, and if he knew Voldemort, he'd have been planning an attack long before the agreement between wizarding schools. No, he told himself firmly, It's one of these two, or Alexis. It has to be. He stared at Millie, with her thick brown hair and clear blue eyes, and then at Dakota, with her dark skin and hair, and brown eyes. He remembered his dream, and recalled the blatant referral to a key and Williams. Yes, Dakota was definitely in the picture, but the key?

"You did?" Dakota asked. Her brown eyes were wider than Harry had ever seen them, and her lower lip was quivering.

"Yeah," he replied offhandedly, hoping that it would take the shock off their announcement. It didn't.

"So what does that mean? Are we still going to be able to ask you questions and stuff without feeling stupid?" Millie burst out.

Hermione laid a comforting hand on Millie's shoulder. "Of course you'll be able to ask us questions. You're able to do that whenever you want. And we'll make sure that no one makes you feel stupid. I promise."

"When's the first meeting?" Dakota asked.

Hermione cringed. "Tomorrow." After seeing the younger girl's horrified face, she hastily added, "Of course, we could always reschedule, but-"

"No," Millie interrupted. Three sets of concerned eyes fell on her, and she muttered, "We shouldn't be messing stuff up for you."

"Well," began Hermione, "With the Christmas holdiays coming soon, we can't really afford to lose time, can we?"

* * *

The following evening, Harry and Ron (Hermionie was in the library), caught up with Madison, Alexis, and Cho in the Ravenclaw common room at half-past seven before leaving to meet the other member of the DA.

"Is it hard to learn the stuff Harry teaches you?" Madison asked conversationally as she and Alexis followed quietly behind Cho.

"Er, yeah, sometimes," the Asian girl replied placidly. She reached a cross in the corridor, and snuck a peek in both directions before motioning to the others. "Come on."

"It's here?" Madison exclaimed when she saw that their destination was, in fact, the Room of Requirement, which, of course, they were all too familiar with.

"Yeah," Cho said, giving the American a strange look. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Cho, like Alexis, began pacing back and forth in front of the wall, while Madison stared at them. She cursed herself for being so stupid- of course it made sense that their meeting would be held in a place that no one could get into, unless they knew the room's secret.

Cho grasped the handle, and looked over at Madison. "You coming?"

Madison nodded, and followed them in. She was temporarily shocked at how many people belonged to this club- there had to be at least twenty. Some she recognized from Ravenclaw, like Michael Corner and his friends, Luna Lovegood, and Cho, obviously. There were a few scattered Hufflepuffs, a sixth year Prefect she didn't know, a girl someone referred to as Susan, and a large group of Gryffindors. She immediately spotted Millie and Dakota, and pulled Alexis over to sit with them.

"Hey, Maddy," Dakota greeted them. Millie sat beside her, twirling her thick brown hair in between her fingers nervously. "Lexi."

"Hey," Alexis said, shaking her red hair out of her eyes. "So, what d'you think'll happen?"

"Dunno," said Madison, plopping down next to Dakota, accidentally sitting on her hand. "Oops, sorry 'bout that."

Just then, Hermione, Ron, and Harry made their way to the front of the room, where a tall, gold-encrusted podium materialized.

"Okay," Harry began, fiddling with a loose button on his robes, "Before we continue with the Double Materialization Charm we were going over last week, I'd like to welcome four new members to the D.A, or Dumbledore's Army. They are quite..." he trailed off, silently pleading with Hermione for help.

"Unique," she supplied readily.

"Unique," Harry repeated. "Yeah, thanks, 'Mione...unique in their own ways...you see, despite our selectiveness in the past when it came to new members-" -here his voice stiffened as he stared at Cho, who had the good graces to blush furiously, "-and their loyalties to others, we'd like to welcome four first years who have shown exceptional skill in their personal sessions with us. Erm... Millie Eliot, Dakota Williams, Madison Reed, and Alexis Van Carte." He gestured lamely at the floor in front of him.

The members of the D.A. applauded politely, although it was clear in their expressions that they were wondering what on earth Harry was thinking.

Susan Bones finally summoned her courage enough to ask, "Er, why is it necessary that they join?" Shrinking under Hermione's sudden glare, she added, "Not that I'm against them joining or anything."

Harry sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. "I had a dream a couple of weeks ago that...Voldemort's getting stronger." He flinched at the collective intake of breath. "Yeah, I know, obvious, but...anyway, I saw a bunch of Death Eaters arrive in rowboats off the coast of somewhere, couldn't tell you where even if it were my own backyard, but I recognized one of them- Lucius Malfoy. He and Voldemort met, and Voldemort said something to the effect of, 'I'm not sure Williams is ready to give up his last daughter yet.' Dakota's the only Williams I knew of, so I had Dumbledore and McGonagall round up her and her friends, just to be safe. They've been meeting with me and Ron and Hermione for..."

"At least a week or two," Madison blurted.

Harry stared at her. "Yeah," he said finally. "So here they are. Any other questions, while we're taking?"

A bunch of people's hands shot up. Harry stared at them dumbfounded, and began pointing at people.

"So how do we know if they'll keep their mouths shut, especially after bloody Edgecombe?" a fifth year Hufflepuff said loudly. Harry looked at the speaker, a large brown-haired boy with long bangs and an earring.

"Hermione's arranged for them to take a potion that'll turn them into something disgusting if they tell," Harry answered proudly. In front of him, the first years looked at each other with stricken faces.

"So the security's gonna be much better than the boils, then?" the boy asked excitedly.

"Yes," Hermione replied testily. "I don't think they'll be in a hurry to tell anyone. Something I'd like to make clear, though, is, they're not the only ones taking the potion. Everyone is. Fudge and his men still make routine checks on the school, and we don't know how they're doing it. So, like last time, with the parchment, everyone's taking the potion. Right now, in fact." She rummaged in her rucksack, and pulled out a large flask containing a rather putrid-looking substance. "After, you'll sign another jinxed parchment, over there."

Gagging and retching sounds filled the room. "Don't worry," Ron said, "It tastes like chocolate and peppermint." He was met with confused looks. "Hey, believe me, Harry and I already took it."

Within seconds, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom had organized a queue in front of Hermione and Ron, equipped with the potion and individual plastic flasks that led them directly to the parchment table that was set up in front of Harry.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Alexis said, after she and Madison finished their share of the potion.

"Nah, Ron was right, it kinda did taste like chocolate," Madison said thoughtfully. "Really old chocolate, but still." Madison made her way over to the parchment. "Alright, let's give this baby the old John Hancock, eh?"

"The what?" Ron blurted out.

"The John Hancock," Madison repeated slowly. "Signature, yeah?" She pretended to swipe at an imaginary piece of paper in the air.

"Sure," he said weakly, handing a flask to Michael Corner. "I could have sworn you'd said something else."

After they signed and put their ages and House on the paper, they wandered over to the many bookshelves, and waited for Dakota and Millie. On the way, though, they saw a third year boy smile at Millie. Dakota giggled hysterically when Millie blushed.

"Yeah, Mil!" crowed Alexis later, ruffling her hair. Millie scowled.

"C'mon, Mil, go talk to him!" Dakota cheered, her braids flopping every which way as she bounced.

"Shut up, Kota," Millie grumbled, catching the third year's eye again and blushing. "You're too loud."

"Want me to talk to him for you?" Dakota offered. Millie shook her head in defeat.

"I'll go, I'm going, gone." She rose unsteadily, and made her way carefully to the cluster of Hufflepuff boys across the room. Meanwhile, Madison and Dakota sobbed theatrically onto each other's shoulder.

"My baby," wailed Madison.

"Growing up so fast," Dakota chimed in, wiping an imaginary tear away from her cheek.

"Chatting up older men," Alexis said wistfully. "I taught her well."

A new voice behind them startled them. "What are you on about?"

All three girls' heads turned slowly, and spotted Harry sitting on the couch behind them casually, raising an eyebrow at their antics.

"Er, how much of that did you hear?" Alexis asked.

"Enough," Harry replied. He leaned forward. "So why're you so keen to poke fun at Mil?"

"It's weird," Dakota said, waving a hand about. "It's not malicious or anything, we're just having fun, lighten up."

"Why's it weird?" Harry prodded.

"It just is!" Dakota said sharply. "It's like, if she goes off with that Hufflepuff boy, then we'll all be left in the bloody dust like old shoes in a dark closet or something."

"It's like we'll be a throwback," added Alexis.

"Abandoned," Harry said quietly.

Dakota nodded. "How'd you know?" Her brown eyes fell on him, reflecting the haunted shadows in Harry's cheeks. She climbed up on the couch next to him.

"Ron an' Hermione," Harry said simply. "They've gotten together, and now I'm the one left."

"It doesn't seem to bother you very much, though," Madison said thoughtfully. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I try to keep to myself. They're still my friends, but I've got to get used to the fact that they have secrets and stuff between them that they can't tell me. Hey, Ron and I have secrets that Hermione doesn't know, and Hermione and I have played one too many pranks on Ron without telling him it's been us, he thinks it was the twins. The point is, we've got to get used to be out of the loop, as you say, Madison," he explained.

"Wow," Dakota said a few minutes later, after a prolonged silence. "Thanks, Harry."

"You're welcome," he grinned.

"No, really," she repeated. "You keep us in line all the time. No one's ever done that without bossing me around like a house elf. Thanks." Without pausing to think, she threw her arms around his neck. Madison and Alexis followed suit, and Harry, startled at first, hugged them back.

Across the room, someone in the shadows watched the particular scene with a renewed sense of joy. They held a large spotted handkerchief to their slightly crooked nose.

"Aah, Harry," Dumbledore whispered, "This is why you need to defeat him. They trust you, they regard you as a friend. In the end, this is what will save you, and us."

* * *

The morning after the initiation meeting in the Room of Requirement, Millie and Dakota sat at the Gryffindor House table, chewing on toast and marmalade, arguing about what to get their friends for Christmas.

"I swear, Mil, if my mother had her way, we wouldn't even know what Christmas is," Dakota said, taking a long drink from her goblet.

"You live in England, not Sri Lanka," Millie said, stabbing a sausage on her plate savagely with her knife. "Honestly, your mother can be so infuriating sometimes."

"You're telling me," Dakota said. "Sometimes I wonder if her sari's wound a bit too tight."

"Sari?" Millie looked confused for a minute, but then asked, "That's the silk thing your mother's always trying to get you in, right?"

Dakota nodded, and looked up. "Oh, no," she said, putting her face in her hands.

"What?" Millie asked, craning her neck. Then she saw. "Oh," was all she could manage.

Among the owls bringing the Daily Prophet and the morning mail, a ruffled-looking owl, brown in color, made its way towards them. People all around the hall were pointing at it and laughing, as it had been laden with several heavy packages, the most noticeable of all trailing a yard of pink silk behind it. It swooped down over the table and landed near a group of fifth and sixth years, all of whom immediately drew their plates back.

"What the hell is that?" Ron Weasley asked aloud. "It looks like it's dead or something." He looked around the table. "Who's it belong to?"

"It's Dakota," a first year boy named Marshall crowed, pointing his finger at the sullen girl. "See? It's from her mother, I bet."

"Shove off, Marshall," Millie growled, helping her friend untie the thongs holding the packages to the bird's legs. "Hold still, Ramesh, I'm trying to get these off you." The impatient bird continued to shake his feet angrily, anxious to get home. Turning to Dakota as she finally got the last package, a thick letter, untied, Millie said, "Here, I bet it's from your parents."

_Dakota took the envelope gratefully, trying hard not to notice the boy, Marshall, doing imitations for his friends. He caught her eye and grinned. She glared at him, and ripped open the seal, which was still warm, the ancient caldari leaf of India glinting innocently back at her. Unfolding her mother's letter, she skimmed carefully as Millie waited for news beside her._

_The marriage proposals have been pouring in for Riley, and we wish to have you home for the bride-viewings this holiday, since your school gives its pupils time off for Christmas. I'm quite busy, and Ramesh has been as well, bringing in more proposals every week. You sister, of course, has been difficult as to which she will see, but that's to be expected. She's been made the director of her orchestra, and they're planning to travel abroad right after the New Year. Typical of her, but that's fine. She is happy, and hopefully she will be even more so after we find her a match. _

_Kennedy sends her love, and she hopes that you will wear your enclosed sari on the ride home to London. She made it herself- she's begun her own sari shop, right next to the Chang's Emporium in Diagon Alley. I'm sure by now you've heard of their daughter, Cho? A disgrace to the family name, I say, to have let their daughter run around with a boy, and an Anglo at that. There's nothing that can be done now, of course, the boy has died. We shall see them on the New Year, and for once, will you try not to eat all the almond pastries? Kennedy has time to make you a new sari for the occasion, and so you shall go for measuring as soon as you arrive. _

_Give my blessings to Amelia, and tell her that I wish her a happy holiday, and a good New Year. I will see you as soon as the train arrives._

_With Love,_

_Mother_

Dakota folded the letter haphazardly, and threw it back into the envelope, picking up the trailing silk of her sari dejectedly. "I have to wear this?" she said under her breath. "Of course, if Kenny made it, then of course I must. I musn't upset Kenny, it would be bad luck for her shop."

Millie took all of this in quietly, as expected of the best friend, and waited for Dakota to cease ranting. "How's everyone?" she asked.

"Oh, brilliant," sighed Dakota, throwing the sari back in its plastic case disgustedly. "Riley's been receiving marriage proposals, and Kenny opened a sari shop, which explains the bloody sari. Apparently her shop's next to Cho's parents', isn't that neat? Mum says we'll be getting together for New Year's. Ughh."

"Marriage proposals?" Millie repeated, folding the sari neatly and putting it in the case, much to Dakota's dislike. "Isn't that a big thing for Riley?"

"Yeah," Dakota replied. "It's big for every Indian girl. It's this huge thing where the mother of the bride and all the aunties get together and screen the boys to see who the best one is. And, when they've narrowed it down to a few, the bride has to participate in bride-viewings. Enough to make a person sick." She paused, throwing down her toast. "C'mon, Herbology next."

They got up from the table and packed the various parcels into Dakota's rucksack. "Is that where the groom gets to meet the bride?" Millie asked, drawing her cloak closer to her to shield from the winter cold.

"No," Dakota said slowly, as if she were speaking to a small child. "It's when the groom's parents get to bombard the bride with questions. Oh, well. Riley'll probably tell them everything they want to know, even if she isn't telling the truth." She sighed. "I really wish I didn't have to go."

They reached the greenhouses, where they pruned strange ferns that looked as though they had seen better centuries, at least. From there, they proceeded to troop down to the dungeons for Potions. There they met Madison and Alexis, and, through clenched teeth, told them what the letter had said.

"But you can't leave!" Madison protested. "The -" she lowered her voice, "-the D.A. party's tomorrow!"

"Calm down, Maddy," Dakota said, laughing, "I don't leave until the day after the party, anyway."

"Oh," Madison said, looking very chastised. "Okay, then."

"S'okay," Dakota reassured her. They stopped talking, however, because Snape had decided to step out from behind his desk, of which the paint was slowly peeling off, and make rounds about the cauldrons set up about the room, to see who was in need of assistance. More likely, though, was that he was bored and he wanted to make someone else's life hell.

The latter seemed more appropriate, because he immediately made his way over to Alexis, like a pesky mosquito would to light. She tensed, and continued to add the ingredients with a renewed sense of courage. She seemed determined to prove to him that she was perfectly fine on her own, as that was the way of the Ravenclaw.

As soon as Snape stopped in front of her, Alexis willed herself not to look up, for if she did, she would crumble, and then he would walk all over her. She looked down at her notebook, where she'd written the process, and poured a few drops of armadillo bile more into the measuring cup she'd left out. After a few moments, the potions master moved on, this time targeting Millie, who had been vulnerable once before, and was most likely to crack under the pressure.

Millie racked her brain as quickly as she could when she noticed Snape's shoes at the side of her cauldron- he was testing them on the last day of the quarter on their Forgetfulness Potions, the only potion on the list of twenty that Millie had neglected to study.

"Eliot," came the familiar hiss. She looked up and saw the smirking face of Severus Snape, baring his yellowing teeth.

"Professor," she replied readily, hoping that it didn't look like she was panicking_. I'm not panicking, so he shouldn't think I'm panicking, because I'm not. Panicking, that is. _

"I wouldn't use that tone with me," he began silkily, bending so they were eye-to-eye, engulfing the girl in black orbs, "if I were trying with all of my measly Gryffindor might to remember my potion. Tell me, Eliot, did you prepare for this exam?" When she didn't answer right away, he snapped, "Eliot, answer me!"

"Millie!" Dakota hissed from behind her, kicking her in the back of the legs, "Answer, darn it!"

"I'm waiting," Snape said, folding his arms in front of him. The effect of the drawn-over robes was astonishing- he looked exactly like a vampire, or, as many students said, a largely overgrown bat.

"No," Millie whispered. She didn't dare draw her eyes away from Snape's, for fear of being labeled a coward.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, no," Millie repeated. "I studied the others, but forgot about this one."

"How convenient," Snape mused, "Forgetting the Forgetfulness Potion. Hmm. See me after class, Eliot. Kindly tell me, though, as I'm curious. Which potions did you study?"

"Er, the Confusing Concoction, um, the Draught of the Intellect, and the Hair-Raising Remedy, sir," Millie said after a minute.

Snape paused, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then he pointed his wand at her cauldron, which held half a potion, and said, "Evanesco." It vanished. "There. Begin again, on the Draught of the Intellect." With that, he swept away.

Millie watched him walk away briskly, and had to think for a minute to realize what had happened. Either I'm losing my mind, or Snape was...dare I say it... nice. Her mind spinning, she opened her notebook to her note on the Draught of the Intellect, and began stirring items in her cauldron hurriedly. Twenty minutes later, the bell rang, and Snape told everyone to bottle a flask of their potion, label it, and leave. Stopping a flagon and labeling it A.E., Millie made her way carefully to Snape's desk, as he had asked. He sat down in his chair unceremoniously, and waited for the other students to leave before speaking.

"I realize what I may have done this afternoon startled you," he began, scratching something down on the edge of a lesson plan booklet, "because I have the impeccable reputation for hating each and every student that passes through that door." He pointed to the entrance, where Millie could see the dark outline of Dakota, most likely waiting for her. "However," he continued, moving to shut the door, "I can see that you, like your mother's great grandfather, have the particular mindset needed for potion-making. I shall ask, however, for forgetting exam material, that you complete a five hundred word essay on how to brew a Forgetfulness Potion. Books may be used, and I would like it as soon as possible, before the start of the new term. Understood?"

Millie nodded.

"Good," he said briskly. "We understand one another, then. You may go now." He spun around, and exited the room, leaving a very confused Millie behind.

* * *

A/N: Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. I wonder what that could mean. **Don't say it.** Oh, Siaryst, you worry too much. It's not like I could give away the fact that this might be important later or anything. **DUFOLI!** Honestly, Siaryst, I'm not saying a word, not a single word, not even a peep- **SHUT UP!** Okay, okay, okay! You're really strict sometimes, you know that? I** have a bloody right to be! If I weren't, then you'd blab the plot before we even wrote it down!** But- **NO BUTS!** But, Siaryst, the plot is written down. **(Siaryst opens mouth to speak, then shoots surprised look at Dufoli) It is?** It is. **Okay. Feel a lot better now, thanks.** Okay, buh-bye! Siaryst-Dufoli 


	10. The Christmas Season

**The Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 10 – The Christmas Season**

* * *

"We've been waiting all year for this night, when the snow is glistening on the trees outside, and all the stockings are hung by the fireside, waiting for a Santa to arrive, and all the love will show, 'cause everybody knows, it's Christmastime and all the kids will see the gifts under the tree it's the best time of year for the family!" sang Madison happily around the Ravenclaw common room. People were staring, but she didn't seem to notice. Or, if she did, she didn't care much. "It's a wonderful feeling, feel the love in the room from the floor to the ceiling, it's that time of year, Christmastime is here! And with the blessings from above, God sends you his love, and everything's okay, Merry Christmas, happy holidays!" 

"Er," Alexis said uncertainly from behind her copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, _"Are you feeling okay, Maddy?"

"Absolutely hunky-dory!" crowed Madison, skipping around, holding jingle bells in her hands. "I love Christmas!"

"I can see that," Alexis said. "But the seventh years are giving you evil looks. I think I heard that Edgecombe girl say something about a Charms exam this afternoon."

"Why are they studying at a time like this?" Madison said dreamily, twirling around in circles. "When they could be outside in the snow?" She paused. "Lexi, why aren't _we_

outside in the snow?"

"Because," Alexis said patiently, "we have Defense Against the Dark Arts, remember? Professor Grubbly-Plank said she wanted to review the Komodo dragon before break."

"Oh, that's right," Madison said, snapping out of her holiday-induced high. "She mentioned a surprise exam, didn't she?"

"Yes," Alexis nodded triumphantly. She looked three stories up, where Cho Chang and a group of her friends mouthed 'Thank-you', as they were among the few that still had studying. "Now, want to review before class? We've got something like ten minutes..."

* * *

Needless to say, there was no exam, and the last burden having been removed from their consciences, Madison and Alexis made their way as fast as they could to grounds, which had become covered with a foot of snow in the past two hours. Other Houses had had the same idea, as they saw a large number of Gryffindors involved in a snowball fight right outside the enormous stone steps. 

"Let's see if we can find Mil and Kota," suggested Madison excitedly, eyeing the snowballs eagerly.

"'Kay," agreed Alexis. They trudged through the knee-deep snow towards the nearest snow fortress, where they immediately recognized the leader, a redheaded girl with a Gryffindor scarf.

"Charge!" she shrieked, raising her wand. Madison and Alexis both ducked when they saw what was intended- upon doing so, Ginny had charmed at least a thousand snowballs to pelt through the air at the opposing fortress. Soon enough, Madison could hear the yells of angry people as the remnants of the snow-shower fell overhead.

"Ginny, you cheat!" Alexis heard Ron yell. "You're not supposed to use magic!"

"Who says I did?" she screamed back. She turned around and beckoned for the Ravenclaws to come closer. "Hey, Maddy, Lexi, help us!" She stepped aside to reveal a tan-skinned girl with a long, dark plait down her back alongside a wispy-looking brunette making snowballs hurriedly. Next to her, Hermione, bundled up in what looked to be the equivalent of a Muggle snowsuit, was busy surveying a piece of parchment.

"Whatcha got there, Hermione?" Alexis asked interestedly.

"Harry's map," Hermione said sheepishly.

"How'd you get it?" Madison asked.

"Er," Hermione said, turning red, "Well, Ron, that is to say...Ron and I snuck out for a walk last week and we didn't want to get caught out-of-bounds," she said in a rush. Madison grinned. "It's not what you think!" she said defensively, as Alexis made a disbelieving noise behind her.

"I'm assuming it tells where people are," Alexis said, moving closer to examine the map. Sure enough, she looked down and saw her name, Hermione's, Madison's, and Ginny's standing side-by-side behind a wall. On the other side, she could see that Neville was pacing back and forth behind Ron, who was looking through a peephole. Harry, it seemed, was trying to sneak around the backside of the school and take them by surprise, along with Millie and Dakota. "Er, Hermione," she said slowly.

"What?" Hermione said, casting a Warming Charm on her mittens, which had all but frozen to her fingers.

"You might want to take a look at this," Alexis said, brandishing the map. "Harry's sneaking around back by the greenhouses, probably to ambush us. Millie and Dakota are with him."

Hermione took the map from the redhead and studied it closely. She traced her finger absently across the weathered parchment, to the cluster of dots in particular. "It looks like they're going to Hagrid's," she said finally.

* * *

"Harry, where are we going?" Millie shouted over the roaring wind. She was trying to keep up with him, but his legs were longer, and he seemed to have no problem plowing through the deep snow, whereas her eleven year old legs were screaming at her for rest. 

"Hagrid's," he shouted back, coming to a stop behind a tall tree. He pointed to the small hut up ahead. "Come on, not much further!"

Millie nodded to herself, and steeled herself for the gales of wind that would most likely meet her. Beside her, Dakota looked like she was having the same thoughts. The dark-skinned girl pulled her cloak up around her ears, which were partly covered by a large fluffy hat with a pompom on the top, and adjusted her mittens before tumbling out from behind the tree after Harry. Finally, they arrived at the steps leading to Hagrid's hut. Harry pounded on the door.

"Hagrid!" he shouted over the wind. "Hagrid, it's me, Harry!" A second later, the massive door opened to reveal Hagrid, dressed in what looked like a Weasley jumper. Fang bounded out from behind him, knocked Millie down, and started to lick her frozen face.

"Hey, Fang, gerroff her!" Hagrid shouted. The dog jumped back obediently, allowing the girl time to sit up before sniffing her ears. "Hello, Harry," Hagrid said, turning to Harry, who was trying to dry off his glasses.

"Hey," Harry said, giving up and placing the glasses back on the end of his nose. "Nice sweater."

"Oh," Hagrid said with a grin, looking down at it, "Molly made it fer me. You wanna cuppa?" Harry shrugged, and Hagrid ushered them inside by the fire, which was crackling away merrily. The Christmas spirit must have attacked Hagrid as well, since Millie noticed the lopsided wreath hanging over the door and a stocking that looked like she could sleep in it comfortably was pinned up by the fireplace. Dakota looked around in amazement, and it was only then that Millie realized that Dakota had never seen the inside of the hut.

"So what are you three doin' out in a storm like this?" Hagrid asked, picking up what seemed to be knitting needles. On the other end was a yard of blue yarn half the length of a tree branch.

"Snowball fight," Harry said, peeling off his mittens. "Me an' Neville an' Ron are outnumbered, so I snagged these two on their way to the girl's side to help me recruit."

"Recruit?" Hagrid repeated. Then it dawned on him. "Yeh don' mean ter tell me yeh wan' me ter help yeh?" Harry grinned. "In this weather?" Hagrid boomed, jabbing his needles towards the window. "Ye're crazy, Potter."

"So they tell me," Harry shrugged.

"C'mon Hagrid, it'll be fun!" Millie said, blinking her blue eyes up at him. When he didn't seem convinced, she pouted. "Please?" she said.

"Pretty please?" Dakota chimed.

Hagrid stared at them for what seemed like an eternity before grinning and tossing his needles toward the bed. "All righ', all righ', I'm comin'." He took out his large moleskin coat and rummaged around in a drawer until he found a pair of uneven mittens and a woolly hat with a puffy ball on top.

Dakota noticed, and snickered.

"Yeah, well, your ha' 'as one too," Hagrid argued with a blush. "C'mon." He pushed open the door, and Millie nearly fell over as a foot of snow came crashing into the hut. Dakota jumped, and stepped back behind Hagrid, who just laughed and pushed her, Millie, and Harry into the snow, while Fang followed with a derisive bark.

* * *

"Steady," Hermione cautioned, holding her arm up to halt the enthusiastic people armed with snowballs. She had charmed the Marauder's Map to enlarge it enough so everyone could see it, and then put an additional levitation charm on it, so she would be free to command the army. 

Which, of course, it was.

"Where are they?" the tanned girl, Parvati, asked. "My arms are getting tired."

"They're close," Hermione assured her. She pointed to the map, which pinpointed Harry around the back of the greenhouse- not close enough to fire upon. "A few seconds more...hold it, people, hold it...NOW!"

A downpour of snowballs, some lightly packed, others coated with ice, bombarded Harry and Hagrid. Dakota and Millie saw the snowballs shower down like arrows, and bolted behind the embankment. Hagrid lost his balance, and yanked a tree branch. Instead of keeping him upright, however, the branch unloaded a pile of snow on top of poor Fang.

Before anyone could react, the pile that had been Fang leapt into the air, showering the worried onlookers with cold snow. Fang bounded out, shaking from head to toe, adding ungodly amounts of saliva to the mix.

"Ew," Ron said from behind the closest bank. He was trying to rub an oozing glob of saliva from his face, but it kept getting slicked in with his hair.

"What?" Harry turned, and began laughing hysterically at the sight. Ron paused, and glared at him. Hermione, however, in her haste to ensure Fang's safety, had overlooked any other victims, and turned as well. Her lips, which had just finished sighing with relief, curved into a smile, which soon erupted into a giggle. Dakota and Millie, who had crawled out from hiding, also caught on, and soon the whole yard of Gryffindors was laughing.

"It's not that funny!" Ron shouted angrily, rubbing madly at his forehead. A fresh wave of giggles swept over the girls, and he glared at them, before zeroing in on Hermione. "Think it's funny?"

She looked at him, then evaded her eyes, stifling a snort.

Ron nodded, then picked himself off his knees, and walked over to where she sat. He took her in his arms, and, as she was eyeing him nervously, rubbed the top of his head all over her face.

"RON!" she shrieked, pushing away from him. He grinned, and she shoved him backwards into a pile of snow. He retaliated by throwing a perfectly sculpted snowball at her, which it her in the shoulder, signifying the beginning of the longest snowball fight in Gryffindor history.

* * *

Later that night, before everyone went to bed, the occupants of Gryffindor Tower exchanged 'Happy Christmases' and took part in holiday festivities, such as wizarding chess (with the pieces donning ridiculous wreaths and tinsel) and dramatic readings of 'T'was the Night Before Christmas' for the first years, read (grudgingly, in Ron's case) by the House Prefects. Harry sat in a corner, tying the last of his packages as he chuckled at his best friend's expressions. He could tell that Ron sorely wanted to tell the first years to shove it, and read their own story so he and Hermione could go make use of the piece of mistletoe he knew hung from the doorway of the Prefect's bath. He gave Ron credit, though- it was only out of sheer admiration for Hermione that he put up with half of the nonsense Prefects were subjected to. 

He left the common room soon after his friends finished the book, saying he needed sleep, after the snowball fight wore him out. Truth be told, he was wondering how he was going to explain the absence of Dakota and Millie's gifts- for they were both friends of his, there was no beating around that; he had seen his name on the tags of packages from both of them when he'd positioned Hermione and Ron's gifts under the tree, and had immediately felt guilty. Harry reached the top of the dormitory stairs, and pushed open the door sullenly. His good mood had been slashed by the despairing thought that he'd forgotten four of his friends. For, when he thought about it, he hadn't gotten anything for Madison or Alexis, either.

It was long after Ron had returned to the dormitory, and just after the chime of midnight, that Harry Potter found sleep.

Miles away, an owl took off, it's direction north. Bound for Hogwarts.

* * *

A/N: This was supposed to be up for Christmas, as you can see, but we didn't get that far. **Obviously.** So, excuse us, and enjoy. **And check out our livejournal!** Simply click on the "hompage" button!

Siaryst-Dufoli


	11. Pendants of Christmas

**The Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 11 – Pendants of Christmas**

* * *

Christmas morning dawned cold and misty, and Harry Potter paced in his dormitory. He hadn't slept at all, and his eyelids were drooping. He felt so guilty for forgetting to get the girls a gift - he'd been trying to think up suitable solutions the whole night. 

Around seven o'clock, the other boys in the dormitory began to stir, and Harry leapt back in bed to make it look like he'd just woken from a fresh sleep too, so no awkward questions would be asked. Soon Ron was awake, his ginger hair sticking up in all places, rubbing at his eyes.

"Morning, Harry," he yawned, stumbling out of his bed, "Happy Christmas, yeah?"

"Happy Christmas, Ron," Harry replied, feeling cheery even with the sinking feeling that he was going to make the girls upset, or worse, make them cry. He reluctantly followed Ron downstairs, where most, if not all of Gryffindor Tower was tearing into their gifts.

Harry located his pile with no problem- it had always seemed like Ron had found it the previous night and hid it away, so he could present Harry with them Christmas morning. Hermione soon joined them, followed by a grumpy-looking Ginny. From Ron, Harry had gotten a Chudley Cannons' quill, which wrote in both team colours; from Hermione, he'd received two books- one about dark creatures found in Great Britain, and one about the defeat of Grindelwald, which she said, 'covered an extensive interview with Professor Dumbledore that looked rather interesting.'

He had just reached the last four packages in his pile, a messy scrawl on top of an oddly lumpy package told him that it was from Hagrid, another less lumpy one Harry guessed was from Mrs. Weasley, and finally, the ones he'd been dreading- the packages from Millie and Dakota. He examined them closely- they weren't as intimidating as he'd first thought- one was rather small and square, and the other was enclosed in an envelope.

Pushing them aside, Harry untied the string on the gift from Hagrid first. Bracing himself, Harry peeled back the brown paper, remembering past gifts from the Care of Magical Creatures professor, but was shocked to see a demure-looking robe. Satisfied that it wouldn't attack him, Harry grew bolder, lifting the robe out of the wrappings. However, he moved too soon, as the collar of the robe unfurled a jagged line of what seemed to be porcupine quills and began hurling them at Harry.

He dropped the robe with a yelp, kicking it away with his foot, which fell prey to the quills- the quills immediately found their target and imbedded themselves in the wool socks he'd thought to put on before getting out of bed.

_Note to self,_ Harry thought, yanking quills out his sock, _Remind Hagrid that, while he meant well, I was unable to tame the robe, and remember to give him a suggestion next year._

After dropping the quills to the side, he pulled Mrs. Weasley's package onto his lap. Deciding there was nothing to be wary of, he opened the crisp paper to reveal another jumper, this time in a deep blue. A note was pinned to the collar, and Harry unhooked it, taking in the familiar writing.

_Hello, dear! Just wanted to wish you a happy Christmas, and send along your gift. I do hope it fits and you like the colour- Ron had been adamant that you were probably getting tired of green jumpers, but they match your eyes so! Please do eat up; I've sent some mincemeat pies and some peanut brittle, and a bit of that toffee you liked so well. Hope you enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Molly and Arthur_

Harry smiled to himself- the Weasleys always made sure he wasn't left out of the gift exchange. He remembered his very first Christmas at Hogwarts, and the jumper she'd sent him then. Trying to avoid having an emotional breakdown in the middle of the common room, Harry slipped the jumper over his head, marvelling at how warm he'd become. He looked down again, and this time, all was unwrapped but the gifts from Dakota and Millie.

He sighed, picking up the envelope. In crisp, slightly loopy handwriting, he read, _To: Harry Potter_. He slid his thumbnail under the crest, and broke the seal. In the envelope, to his surprise, was a Chocolate Frogs famous wizards card, with his face on it, with it a note. Reading the back of the card, he was amused that Ron and Hermione had been listed as his best friends.

Harry turned his attention back towards the note, which had been written on pink parchment. He picked it up and began to read.

_Harry,_

_Sorry, it's not much, but I just wanted you to have a happy Christmas. That card is really rare- hope you like it!_

_Millie_

Surprisingly innocent, and yet, made him feel a bit better about neglecting to get anything for them in return. He looked under the ripped wrappings for the other, and finally located it, near the quill-shooting robe. Tearing the shiny paper off, he unhooked the lid of the box to find a tiny framed photograph. The photo had obviously been taken after Harry had introduced the four to the rest of the D.A, as the miniscule Harry was being tackled on a sofa by a giggling version of Madison and Dakota, Alexis grinning madly from behind him. Harry couldn't help but grin at it before searching the paper for a note.

Not finding one, Harry knelt down, looking under the discarded wrappings again. The next thing he knew, a small pair of stockinged feet approached him, with a cheerful, "Harry Potter, sir!"

Harry froze. He knew that voice. He looked up, and smiled weakly at the house-elf. "Hi, Dobby," he said, righting himself. "How've you been?"

"Dobby is very good indeed, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby replied, his tennis ball-sized eyes gleaming. "Dobby is supposed to fetch you, Harry Potter, sir, for Headmaster Dumblydore, sir."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry blinked. _What on Earth does Professor Dumbledore want with me on Christmas? "_Did he say what for?"

"No, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said sadly, his ears drooping. "Dobby is supposed to fetch Harry Potter, sir, and bring him to the kitchens right away, right away!"

"All right," Harry said, standing up. "Hang on, I've got to go get my robe, hang on a sec-"

"Begging your pardon, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby stammered, hopping from one foot to the other, "But Harry Potter does not have time, Dobby is supposed to bringing Harry Potter to the kitchens at once!"

"All right," Harry sighed. "Lead the way." And lead the way he did. Through the clamours of students happily displaying their gifts to their friends, Dobby marched Harry, not only catching the attention of Ron and Hermione, but Dakota and Millie as well, to the kitchens.

"Where're you off to?" Ron asked through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Dumbledore wants to see me," Harry replied, halting Dobby. Behind Ron, Hermione clucked her tongue.

"On Christmas?"

"Yeah," Harry said, trying to keep Dobby stationary- the adamant house-elf was determined to keep going, even though his companion had halted.

"Harry Potter, sir, we must hurry!" Dobby was saying.

"Harry!" Millie said excitedly, finally catching up to them. "Thank you so much!"

_Huh?_ Harry thought. He looked down at the younger girl, who was clearly ecstatic about something. "Sure?" he said weakly.

"These are so pretty," Dakota said, fingering a smooth stone hung on a leather cord around her neck.

"Um," Harry said, giving the Indian girl an odd look. "What?"

"The necklace, silly," she said, holding out the pendant. Looking closer, Harry could see the dark green stone, flecked with tiny specks of red. He looked to Millie's neck, and there was a similar pendant, the stone being greyish-purple. "How'd you know my favourite colour was green?"

"Um," Harry began, wondering where he'd been, and how they'd gotten the impression that he'd known anything. "Are you sur-"

"Oh, look, there's Lexi's owl, whats-its-name, Courtlandt!" Millie poked Dakota. "C'mon, Dakota!"

"Bye!" Dakota waved, and they disappeared in the crowd.

"Wait!" Harry called desperately after them. "I didn't give those necklaces to them," he said to Ron and Hermione, his eyes on Dakota's retreating back. No answer. He turned to Ron, but no one was there. However, before Harry could attempt to go after them, or the girls, Dobby seized the moment to drag him towards the Portrait Hole.

When he and Dobby arrived at the portrait of the fruit bowl, Harry tickled the pear, not paying much attention to anything but the strange series of events that had just unfolded.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said, pointing a long finger towards the painting. Harry looked up, and saw the silver handle. He yanked on it, and they crawled into the kitchens, where Dobby saluted Harry, and ran off to resume his work on the Christmas feast.

"Ahh, Harry," a soft voice said from behind him. Harry spun around, and saw Dumbledore seated before a comfortable fire, sipping something that resembled a Muggle soda, complete with a crazy straw. "I trust you're wondering why I have called you down to the kitchens, of all places?"

"Um," Harry said, "A little, Professor." Dumbledore smiled, and motioned for him to have a seat. Harry obliged, and watched as the elder wizard took a sip of the pink liquid.

"They call this Seven-Up Plus in the Muggle world," Dumbledore said, twisting the straw delightedly. "Have you encountered such a whimsical drink at your aunt and uncle's?"

Harry nodded.

"Would you care for one?"

Harry shook his head, accompanied by a soft, "No, thanks, Professor."

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Harry, I had heard, through some valuable sources, that there was talk of a D.A. party?"

"Um," Harry started, "Well, we had planned on-"

"-Harry, Harry," Dumbledore said with a knowing smile, "It's fine. All I wanted to know was, had you planned on serving...what do those Muggles call it?...Ah, yes, finger food?"

"Er-"

"Because the source I am speaking of expressed an interest of personally catering to the party," Dumbledore continued. Just then, Dobby appeared from behind Dumbledore's robes, looking positively delighted.

"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby will help Harry Potter, Dobby promises!"

"Um," Harry said, looking from the house-elf to the older wizard, who was surveying the scene like a grandfather would his grandchildren. "All right?"

"My next question," Dumbledore said, the first bit of his meeting over, "was if you had spoken to Professor McGonagall about possibly being a chaperone?"

"Actually, sir," Harry said, feeling confident now that they had touched base on something he'd already thought of, "That's what Ron and I were going to do at breakfast."

"I see," Dumbledore said, sitting back. "Well, then, Harry, I see no reason to delay the festivities. I shall see you at breakfast, then?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied, relieved that their meeting hadn't evolved around Voldemort-related issues. As he stood up to leave, Harry was struck with a thought. "Erm, Professor? You wouldn't happen to want to attend the party as the guest of honour, would you? I mean, the D.A. stands for 'Dumbledore's Army, after all, and I thought maybe the D.A. would want to honour that namesake..."

"I would be delighted," Dumbledore said, nodding his head. Harry had almost gotten all the way outside the kitchens when Dumbledore spoke again. "Your friendship with the girls will aid you, Harry. What you've done for them has tied them to you in ways you probably don't realise."

"Sir?" Harry blinked.

"You are doing well teaching them," Dumbledore said. "I shall see you soon."

* * *

"They're really pretty," Madison said, admiring her pendant, a glossy brownish-yellow that had been identified as amber. "I haven't seen Harry anywhere today, though. I wanna thank him." 

"You'll get a chance," Alexis said, clasping her own around her neck. Like Madison's, hers was a brownish colour, with red streaks that reminded her of paint. "You all right, Mil?"

"Dandy," came the muffled answer. They had met up in the library, where they had meant to help Millie with her essay for Snape on the Forgetfulness Potion. However, the stubborn girl had refused their help, leaving the rest to their own devices.

"So, tell us why he let you write an essay instead of giving you detention again?" Dakota said, flipping through a tattered book, which had definitely seen better days, labelled _Quidditch__ Through the Ages_.

"He said I had the same penchant for Potions that my grandfather Nicolas had," Millie said, her voice drowning out the scratching of her quill.

"Who?" Madison asked.

"My grandfather Nicolas," Millie said. "He was a friend of Dumbledore's. 'Cording to Mum, he's been famous for a while. He's not her father; more like her great-great-great grandfather or something."

"This Nicolas guy was a Potions fan?" Alexis asked, trying to comprehend.

"Yes," Millie said testily. Seeing her friends' shocked faces, she apologised. "Sorry, but I have three hundred and twenty-six words to go." She flipped a page in her text, and smiled. "Hey, here's a picture of him!" She turned the book around so they could see it properly, not noticing the abnormally large rat that ran out from under the book jacket and into the next aisle of dusty books.

"'Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist, outside his home with his wife, Perenelle,'" read Madison. "Neat."

"Your great-grandfather or whoever he was made the Philosopher's Stone?" Alexis asked incredulously. "Are you kidding?"

Millie shook her head.

Dakota, Madison, and Alexis exchanged awed looks. "Mint!" Madison crowed. The others stared at her. "Um, cool?" she said lamely. The rest of the girls stared some more, hiding smiles.

"Is that like, an American thing?" Millie asked, giggling.

"Fine, make fun of me!" Madison said dramatically. "I see that I have erred in choosing my friends wisely. Ah, Madam Oppenheim, what would you do if you saw me now?"

"She'd run in terror," Alexis said dryly.

"Either that, or she'd hit you upside the head for speaking to your friends in such a manner," a chuckling Millie added.

Madison banged her head on the tabletop, before lifting it again with a wicked grin. "And don't you have an essay to be finishing, missy?" she pointed out. "Or did you..._forget_?"

"Haha," Millie deadpanned. "It is to laugh."

"Come on, Mil," complained Dakota. "The faster you scribble, the faster we can go to the party." She clasped her hands under her chin and glanced upward lovingly. "And you know who'll be there."

"You-Know-Who?" joked Millie.

"No... his name is...Trenton!" Dakota said in a sing-song voice. "The lovely third-year you chatted up, remember?" Judging by the surmounting blush on Millie's face, she clearly did remember.

"Yup," Millie said, picking up her quill again. "You three need therapy, you know."

"And that's what makes us the center of the party that is life!" Madison said grandly, throwing her arms wide.

"Either that, or you've been spending a little too much time being near Broadway," Alexis said, throwing a piece of parchment at her. Madison glared at her, and chucked it back, missing Alexis and hitting Dakota in the nose.

"OY!"

* * *

"It's about bleeding time you finished," Dakota grumbled, taking each stair slowly, so not to miscalculate and fall through the trick step. "Twenty-three, twenty-four, there we go!" She hopped over the twenty-fifth step. 

"It's not like I had a choice," Millie replied, skipping the step as well. "It was a five hundred word essay, not some scribble-off."

"Uh-huh, we know. That doesn't give you an excuse to dawdle," Madison said with a mischievous smile.

"Who uses the word 'dawdle' anymore?" Alexis sneered good-naturedly, sliding her hand up the rail.

"I happen to," Madison retorted, flipping her dark ponytail. "Is that a problem?"

"With me, or the rest of the population?"

* * *

A fat, balding man, Peter Pettigrew had been on the run for the greater part of the last two decades. Not proud of many of his actions, especially those concerning his former friends, the traitorous Wormtail found that he had to be at least a tiny bit amazed at his own ability to sneak around without being recognised. As he climbed the steps leading to the great stone altar, he ran over his possible, almost inevitable reward for ensuring the Dark Lord's plans went smoothly. 

As he neared the top, his rodent instincts told him that the treacherous snake, Nagini, was present, along with his Master. Shivering involuntarily, Wormtail crossed over the last stair, bowing low.

"Wormtail," the high voice cut through the night air like the guillotine's blade would a victim's flesh. "I trust you were able to secure the...gifts?"

"Yes, My Lord," he shivered. "It has been done."

"And?" Two long, pale fingers raised, posed to snap.

"The four of them are wearing the pendants!" Wormtail said hurriedly, looking from the fingers to the large reptile slithering past and back again. "The locator has been ready for weeks now, My Lord. Now, if the device is activated, the locations of the four will show on the transmitter."

"Excellent." The voice breathed. "You please me, Wormtail. Soon, we shall strike, and we will be able to get rid of Potter, once and for all, with his dear mother's gift on our side!"

Through the foggy Christmas air, coming from one of many islands off the coast, shrieks could be heard long into the night.

* * *

A/N: Ta-da! **Yes, it is excellent, isn't it?** My dear moldie Voldie has a way with words, don't you agree? **You betcha!** Now that you have a slight idea what's going on... **Not for long! **Shut UP, Siaryst! I swear, I can't tell you ANYTHING! **Au contraire, mon ami. You told me just last week that you lo-** SHUT UP! I told you not to tell anyone that I like pickles on toast! **Hey, you said it, I didn't.** Dufoli runs after a startled and giggling Siaryst with a large meat cleaver REEEVVVIEEWW! 

The Still Notably Strange, Siaryst-Dufoli


	12. Home

**Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 12 - Dakota Goes Home**

* * *

An hour before the party started, the four girls met in the Entrance Hall, Madison, Millie, and Alexis waving to Dakota as she hurried into the quickly approaching night, ushered by Professor McGonagall herself. Very confused, the three girls turned and shrugged at one another. Dakota hadn't seemed pleased about going home early- after all the talk about her sisters and her mother, not to mention the prospect of missing the D.A. party, none of them really blamed her.

* * *

_On the road again, _Dakota thought dully, _just can't wait to get on the road again..._

Soon, the Hogwarts Express arrived in London at King's Cross. She looked out the window, and could barely make out her oldest sister, Riley, standing in a pool of light that shone from an overhead lamp, clutching a briefcase and checking her watch impatiently. She was actually quite surprised to see her there- she'd been expecting Kennedy or even her parents. With the wedding planning in progress, she'd thought Riley would be a bit preoccupied to see her off the train.

Reluctantly, Dakota gathered her bag and her traveling cloak, which she slung over her shoulder carelessly. _Not likely I'll be wearing it for long, anyway, _she reasoned. She stepped off the train, and began fighting the dense crowd towards her sister. Then she heard her.

"Come on, Dakota, we don't have all bloody night!" Riley sounded mad. And, upon closer inspection, Dakota saw that she was.

Instead of teasing her about swearing in public, something Riley rarely did, Dakota asked, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Riley replied testily, grabbing Dakota's hand and leading her out of the station. She held out a piece of heavy parchment. "I got an owl while I was waiting for you to come in, and I have another bride-screening next afternoon. Mum suggested you be there, serving tea." She stopped, and knelt down in front of her sister. "Dakota, please don't mess this up, please, please, please. If you do, I won't get married, and Kennedy won't ever get married, and _you_ won't get married. That's how big of an impression you'll make." She stared at Dakota, who was rolling her eyes.

"Yes, Riley, I'll be a perfect bleeding angel, and you'll get to marry Prince Charming. Happy?" Dakota couldn't help but sound cross. Her mother had written the day before she was supposed to leave, and had told her that she had arranged with Professor Dumbledore to allow Dakota to go home early, therefore taking away any chance that Dakota had had of going to the D.A. party. She sighed. She could picture the whole of Gryffindor Tower preparing for the party without her, and it just made her even grumpier.

"Okay, then, I think _someone_ needs a nap before tea," Riley said, standing up again. "A long nap. Don't want to be cranky, do we?"

They continued the journey in silence, and Dakota kept wondering how the party would be. She barely noticed when they Flooed home and found the manor in a horrific display of what her mother used to call "wedding mode." Dakota managed to sneak past her nurse, Svetlana, and escape to her room. She shut the door, and sighed. She turned around, taking in her room.

"AUGHHHHHHHHH!"

* * *

"Did you see the look he gave us when we started laughing?" Millie shrieked with laughter. She, Madison, and Alexis were returning from the D.A. party, all giddy and excited for the holidays.

"I know!" Madison replied, snorting. "He didn't know what to do!"

"That wasn't really nice of you," Alexis spoke up, skipping between the other girls. "I reckon he was trying to kiss Hermione under the mistletoe." She wagged her finger at her friends. "Not very nice." She grinned widely. "And that's why it was so clever!"

"Oh, come on, Lexi," Madison said jovially, "It's Christmas, and anyway, Ginny gave it to us to give to him. How were we supposed to know that stupid package had a tarantula in it?"

"I don't know," Alexis admitted, sliding down the handrail, barely missing the Bloody Baron as he passed. "Sorry, sir!" She turned to Millie, who was taking the safe route down the stairs. "Wonder how Kota's doing."

"I don't know," Millie said, sighing. "It's really too bad that she had to go home early." She wrinkled her nose. "What with her mum and her sisters, and the wedding, she's going to go bloody crazy!"

"Excuse me?" a cold voice said. All three girls' heads swiveled in the direction the voice had come from, and all visibly cringed when they saw the speaker.

"Professor, we're sorry," Madison said quickly. "We didn't know we weren't alone, we're sorry, honestly!"

"Quiet, Reed!" Professor Snape snapped. "Are you aware of the time?" He drew his cloak around his shoulders. "It's after hours, and yet, you three are out of bed. I believe there are rules against that, aren't there, Miss Van Carte?" he stared at Alexis, who nodded.

"But, sir, we were coming back from the D.A. party," Alexis explained hurriedly, "And Professor McGonagall was there, and so was the headmaster, sir, you were invited, but you told Harry you had work to do-"

"Fine, fine," Snape muttered, shaking his curtain of greasy hair. "That still fails to explain your use of derogatory vocabulary. Fifteen points from Gyrffindor for being rude." He sneered at them. "Why don't you go back to your dormitories, where you belong?"

"Yes, sir," they chorused, making a beeline for their respective dormitories. As soon as they were out of earshot, Madison let out a groan.

"I can't believe him!" she complained. "He knew all about the party, stupid git… Harry only invited him because it was polite…"

They hurried through the castle, leaving off at the junction at the library entrance. From there, Alexis and Madison carried on towards the Ravenclaw commons, while Millie made her way to the tower by herself. She made it without any other mishaps, and narrowly avoided being trampled by some of the Weasley twins' friends, congratulating her on a job well done as she dragged her tired body up to bed.

* * *

"You sent for me before…" She paused. She had almost mentioned the D.A. Christmas party, something Dakota knew her mother wouldn't approve of. "Before you said you would," she finished lamely. Noticing her mother's obvious disinterest, she continued. "And also, me not being home didn't give you three the right to tear apart my ROOM!" Dakota shrieked at the top of her lungs. The sun was just setting across the sweeping grounds below the manor, casting a particularly dreadful air on the dwelling. The bride-screening had since finished, and the four Williams women were sitting in the lounge, three of them priding themselves on jobs well done.

"Popkin, we had the furniture in the hall reupholstered, and we thought, 'wouldn't Dakota like a bedroom makeover?' We had silk covers put on the walls, in the Williams' family green, and some lovely shots of Sri Lanka that Auntiji Terra sent for the New Year," Mrs. Williams trailed off, seeing the death glare that her youngest daughter was shooting her. "Dakota, dear, we 're having guests, and nobody wants to see picture upon picture of those skin headed men on broomsticks!"

"Mum, it's my room! And why would it matter if the aunties saw my bedroom or not? It's not like they'd inspect it or anything, right?" She stopped. "_Right_?"

Mrs. Williams wrung her ornamented hands, her many bracelets jingling as she did so. "Actually, all of the aunties want to be here for the holidays, Popkin," she began, smiling happily at Riley. "And they all need a place to stay. We may be witches, dear, and Sri Lankan at that, but we can't possibly just… conjure enough rooms for the aunties to stay in!" She chuckled. "Your room will serve as Auntiji Terra's chambers while she's here."

"And, uh, _exactly_ how many of the aunties are coming?" Dakota narrowed her eyes, her anger finally settling in the pit of her stomach. "Just the close ones, right? So, like, four or five?"

"Actually, no, dear," Mrs. Williams said, glancing at her eldest daughters, who were sniggering quietly on a sofa. They knew, of course, but were taking much delight in watching their younger sister shriek in horror at the plans their mother had laid out. "The aunties from Sri Lanka, and then your father's aunties from India… more like twenty or so."

"Twenty!" Dakota felt faint. "For how long?"

"Until the New Year, of course," Mrs. Williams replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's two weeks!" Dakota said. She took note of her sisters' laughter, and glared at them. "Very bloody funny! It's all your fault, Riley! You and your stupid bloody wedding!" She put her hands on her hips. "I'm leaving. This is bloody mad."

"Dakota, that's enough swear words from you!" Mrs. Williams said, clapping her hands together briskly. "You may be dismissed. Svetlana, please take Dakota to the dining hall and ask that Damian prepare a munch or two."

The Nordic woman nodded, and shooed Dakota out of the room. When they were out of earshot, the aging nurse whispered, "Miss, you were right rude to your mother in there." She frowned sternly at Dakota.

"I don't care," she replied stubbornly. "She wrecked my room! She's letting Auntiji Terra _sleep_ there! For _two _weeks!" She sighed. "You know that that wasn't even their reason for changing my room, Svetlana. Auntiji Terra doesn't mind Quidditch, she just doesn't think that 'young ladies like myself' should be watching disrespecting young men show off to crowds."

"All the same, Miss," Svetlana said, ushering Dakota into a large stone room, made sweltering hot by the enormous fire pits in the four corners of the room. "Come along." She held out her hand obligingly, and helped Dakota down the rough-hewn steps.

"Damian, could you please fix the young miss a bite?" A second later, a disembodied head appeared in the fireplace.

"What now, Svet?" The head, which had thinning dark hair and a slightly pronounced moustache, appeared to be slightly stressed. He spotted Dakota, and his attitude changed immediately. "Ah, the little mademoiselle! Tell me, missy, what could Damian make for you today?"

"If you could get my room back, posters undamaged, that would be a great blessing on your house," Dakota replied formally. She's always been taught to speak to the other servants as though they were Sri Lankan servants, where the hired help was usually not seen and not heard. Her mother had caught her making a card for a maid's birthday one year when she was little, and had enforced the rule ever since. Svetlana, of course, had been the exception, as she had been with Dakota ever since she'd been born.

"Ha," Damian laughed, pressing his finger on his nose. "The little mademoiselle is a joker, no? What is that I could make you? Ham sandwich? Chicken cordon bleu? Specialty desserts, our little secret?" He looked at Dakota, who had taken a seat at the large butcher-block table and was resting her head in her hands dolefully. "Is this about your mother and your sisters, pumpkin?"

Dakota shook her head violently, her dark eyes filling with tears.

"Ah," Damian said, nodding his chubby head. "I will be up in a moment, yes?" He disappeared from the fireplace, and within seconds, was bustling through a swinging door. Soon he'd picked Dakota out of her chair, and enveloped her in a squishy bear hug, smoothing her hair comfortingly. "Missy, missy, missy, you know that your mother means well, but she gets caught up in the traditions of her country. Just like me, and my affinity for French cuisine. Look at me."

She complied.

"Mothers will be mothers," Damian said seriously, glancing at Svetlana. She looked back at him worriedly, mouthing the words, _She's__ missed a party with her friends, and Mistress Terra's staying in her room for two weeks. _"Ah," he said. He looked down at Dakota, who was sniffling into his apron. "Why don't you tell me more about these friends of yours, yes? While old Damian makes your favourite dish?"

"Pancakes with chocolate?" Dakota said hopefully. Damian nodded firmly. "Wohoo!" She hugged him again, then climbed back into her chair. "So, you already know Millie, but we're in the same house, Gryffindor, and we met these other girls somehow, I can't remember how, really. But, anyway. There's this one girl, who's an exchange student from 'Merica, named Madison, after the third president or something like that, and then also in her house there's Alexis, who we call Lexi, 'cause she doesn't really like being called Alexis…" Dakota babbled.

At a large stove, Damian stood, flipping pancakes and nodding every once in a while. He stole a look at Svetlana, who was cleaning the sink, and occasionally asking questions, and smiled. Dakota was home, where she belonged.

* * *

Later that night, after Dakota had finished eating, and Damian had finished cleaning, the three stayed up in the comfortable heat of the kitchens, playing Mancala, a game that Svetlana had found on one of her vacations to her wayward sisters around the world. Dakota was getting sleepy, and yawning a lot, and Svetlana picked her up and brought her to her remade bedroom. She assumed that she'd be grateful in the morning, as the aunties were arriving from Sri Lanka and India.

Half an hour after Svetlana had retired herself, Dakota woke up feeling groggy and dry-throated. She peeled back the new silk sheets, and padded down the hall towards the bathroom. Her hair was in frightful disarray, the dark locks falling half out of her braid, and she rubbed her eyes as she tiptoed down the cold corridor.

As she passed the library, she heard the unmistakable sound of her father conversing with what she presumed to be one of his business contacts. Given the fact that Mr. Williams had clientele all over the globe, it was not unusual to find him still up most nights. However, the one thing that Dakota had never heard her father doing was plead.

Which was exactly what it sounded like he was doing.

Interested, Dakota pressed her ear to the door panel, trying to make out what her father (or his client) was saying.

"I assure you, everything is in order," her father was saying, a tremble in his voice. _So he's in trouble, _Dakota thought. _Nothing he's not handled before. _The she heard him groan. "No, please, I'll deliver! Just, please, give me more time!" Dakota looked at the door worriedly. She stared at the panels, wondering exactly who her father was in trouble with. He'd always managed to avoid contact with the Death Eaters, she supposed, but she couldn't fathom any other power with something over her father. He had always been rather gruff with her sisters and her mother, therefore making him a force to be reckoned with most of the time. The fact that he was pleading with some unknown being was rather unnerving, she supposed.

Her father's footsteps came closer to the door, and Dakota leapt back, cursing inwardly as her foot hit a large statue of Buddha. When her foot hit the bronze, a low, rumbling noise, not to go unnoticed, sounded. The door handle turned, and Dakota froze. Her bedroom was three doors down, so it was pretty much useless trying to hide there. _The bathroom! _Surely it was close enough. Dakota slid into the shadows just as the door to the study opened.

From the safety of the dark bathroom, Dakota saw her father's signature curtain of dark, slicked-back hair out of place, as if someone had yanked on it. When his face turned so he could glance down the corridor, in her direction, she saw large bags under his eyes.

He stood there a minute, until a sharp rapping noise sounded from inside the room he had just vacated. He jumped, and went back inside, shutting the door crisply. Breathing a sigh of relief, Dakota crawled back out of the bathroom, and pressed her ear against the door once more.

"Consider the options, Roland," the high voice said silkily. "Either you follow through on your pledge to me, Roland, and bring the girl to me, and dispose of the others, or you shall take their places. Do I make myself plain?"

"Yes, Master," was Roland Williams' reply. Dakota looked at the door, eyes wide. _Dispose of them? _Her mind filled with sinister thoughts of empty graves and blood, none of which were very pretty. And he called this man Master?

"Do not disappoint me, Roland," the voice said. "I am not one to forgive and forget, you understand."

"Yes, Master. The girl will be yours by the end of the full moon, in order to restore your body and mind fully."

Dakota strained to hear what was said next, but didn't quite catch it. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of someone Flooing, as her father shut the grate. Wasting no time, Dakota sprinted to her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her before clambering into her bed, heart beating rapidly.

She did not fall asleep until dawn approached.

* * *

A/N: I know it's springtime, but reviews have been on the lax side. **Lax?**** You call that _lax! _We've been left high and dry, wondering if anyone wants to add something to our plot and if anyone out there likes it! **Siaryst, I've been trying to say exactly that, only tactfully. **Tactfully?**** You don't have the tact of a tack.** Thank you, Siaryst. (rolls eyes) Anyway, as I was saying- **Review, and tell us what you blighters think!** That, too. Review! The Somewhat Excited To Get To The Good Parts Of Our Story, Siaryst-Dufoli 


	13. The Hunt Begins

**The Will of the Wands**

* * *

**Chapter 13 - The Hunt Begins**

* * *

As Dakota wasfinally climbing out of bed in southern England, Madison and Alexis were hard at work. Millie had yet to join them, as she was busy writing an essay for a Herbology project, and, judging by the way Alexis threw down her quill, was probably taking her time with it. 

She rocked back on her heels, and stood, pacing in the empty Astronomy Tower.

"Where is she?" the redhead snarled. Her hair flew around her wildly, as if it were a separate entity. "She should have been done with that bleeding essay a while ago, don't you think?"

"Give her a while, Lex," Madison replied, not looking up from the roll of parchment she was decorating. "If we get this announcement finished, then we can hang it up in the common room before lunchtime. Then we can work on the ones for the other houses."

"But it was partly her idea!" Alexis argued.

"And I know that," Madison told her. "Just… chill, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Alexis did as she was told, and plopped back down on the cold stone floor, and picked the quill up again. A few minutes later, they were finished, and they propped the roll of parchment open with a few small stones so the ink could dry. Madison sat up and admired their handiwork.

"The D.A. would like to invite any student, any age, to a special party for New Year's Eve! Be in the Room of Requirement around eight, and we'll ring in the New Year! Please inform Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Alexis Van Carte, Millie Eliot, or Madison Reed if you are interested. Hope to see you there!" Madison read out loud. "Missing anything?"

"Yeah," a voice said from behind them. Millie dropped her bag beside the growing pile of crumpled up bits of parchment, and picked up the flier. "Where's Dakota's name?"

"Dakota won't be home until that day, remember?" Alexis said.

Millie nodded, putting the flier back down on the floor. "Wait, I thought she wouldn't be home 'til after!"

"Really?" Alexis said thoughtfully. "Maybe. If so, shoot. If not, she'll be able to go to the party after all!"

"Therefore, she can't be available for people to tell her that they're going," Madison added. "Anyway, how'd the essay come out?"

"Good," Millie beamed, smoothing her hair into a fluffy ponytail. "Five rolls longer than Sprout asked for, but there was a lot on the subject in the book."

Madison and Alexis gaped at her. Then Madison stood up, brushing her robes off briskly. "I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that at all, and I'm not thinking that you've been spending too much time with Hermione at all, no, I'm not. However, I am going to the Ravenclaw common room and checking with Cho to see if there's a Replicator spell we can use on these babies." She waved a flier with all of the House crests drawn in the corners.

"We'll see if we can make a banner for the library," Millie told her. "Hopefully Madam Pince won't mind."

An hour later, Millie and Alexis had produced a smart-looking banner, and a few more fliers. Feeling quite satisfied with their work, Alexis moved towards the window, watching as the Gryffindor Quidditch team marched out to the pitch. She smiled, and unhooked the latch to the window, swinging it outward. The cold December air hit her, and she shivered.

"Hey, it's the Gryffindor team," Millie said, looking over Alexis' shoulder. "There's Harry!"

Before them, not a hundred feet away, Harry was chasing the Snitch. They waved frantically. "Harry! Over here!" The Seeker smiled when he saw them, waving their arms in order to catch his attention. He manoeuvred his Firebolt, and soon he was parallel to the window.

"Hi," Harry said, his breath forming small puffs of smoke. "Where's Madison?"

"Downstairs," Millie replied. "Do these look okay for the party?" She held up one of the fliers that they'd drawn in the time that Madison had been gone.

"Excellent," Harry said. He nudged his broom a little farther. "Well, Ron's about apoplectic down there, so I'll talk to you later, okay?" He paused. "How'd you manage to get into the Astronomy Tower, anyway? It's practically impossible to get into."

"Let's just say that, once or twice, Ginny took me and Dakota spying on Ron and Hermione," Millie answered smugly.

Harry laughed. "Okay, then, I shouldn't have asked." Below him, Ron screeched his name. "And it begins. See you." And with that, he took off.

* * *

Things took off without a hitch, and many D.A. members, pleased with the events of the Christmas party, eagerly awaited the New Year's Eve party. In between her classes, Millie managed to send Dakota an urgent owl, asking her if she was, indeed, coming back to Hogwarts in time for the party. 

The Friday before New Year's, as Millie was hurriedly finishing the crusts of her toast, her snowy owl dropped a letter in her lap.

"Ugh, Snowflake, 'bout time," she mumbled, stuffing the letter into her bag and dashing out of the Great Hall, heading towards the dungeons. To her chagrin, she was three minutes late for Potions, something she knew Snape would use to humiliate her. As she reached the door, she wondered how Dakota would react. She smiled, picturing her friend marching in, head held high and picturing Snape as a pincushion, or something equally ridiculous.

Taking a deep breath, Millie pushed the door open and marched in, surprising Snape and forgetting the letter entirely.

* * *

After a small but filling breakfast with the aunties, Dakota volunteered to follow her father on a traditional hunt for the New Year's meal the next day. Her mother and a few of the elder women had objected, but finally Roland Williams agreed. Her job was to carry the arrows for him and her uncles, who were to accompany them. In her haste to find the traditional robes, she missed the look that passed between her parents. 

For the remainder of the day, Dakota followed them, dressed in the traditional white robe and barefoot, carrying the extremely heavy basket of arrows, all tipped with the finest pheasant feathers Galleons could buy. Upon asking why wands weren't used, her father explained that it was considered dishonest if a hunt was made with magic. So, her uncles and her father left their wands with her mother and aunties. Dakota, not being an actual participant in the hunt, had slipped her wand into the pocket of her robe. Her father was pursuing an albino deer, something he considered a sign of prosperity, and her uncles were hunting across the small river that ran through their estate.

"Stop, beti," Roland said, bringing his hand back and stilling her. "Look." He pointed with the tip of the bow he held in his rough hands.

Dakota looked, and she saw it. The deer, almost glowing because it was so white, was drinking from the river. It looked so peaceful, standing with its feet in the water. "That's the deer you're going to kill?" Dakota asked quietly.

"Yes," her father replied, positioning his bow. "Arrow, please."

Dakota hesitated.

"Arrow, please," her father's voice was more urgent this time. "Dakota. Give me the arrow." When she didn't move, he snarled in frustration and snatched the arrow out of her hands. He positioned the bow again, taking careful aim for the deer. Dakota covered her eyes. She heard the almost silent swoosh of the bow releasing, and she gasped.

"Merciful Babaji," breathed Roland, lowering the bow in amazement. Dakota's eyes snapped open, and she could just make out the silvery mist, where the deer had stood. "It's gone!"

"It wasn't real," Dakota whispered. Her brown eyes were wide as she tugged on her father's sleeve. "It's a sign, Daddy, from Babaji."

"Perhaps," was the short reply. "Dakota, why don't you go and pick some flowers for your mother and aunties while I find your uncles and see what they make of this, huh? Go, on, there's a greenhouse a short way beyond the hill there, in the middle of the forest. We'll come find you when we need you."

"Okay," Dakota said. She lowered the basket of arrows, and took off, her heart pounding as she ran and contemplated the meaning of the deer's disappearance.

When she found the greenhouse, Dakota almost died. Hundreds of beautiful flowers, of all colours, spread before her. Not minding the fact that she was wearing a white robe, Dakota all but flung herself to the ground, picking the flowers that looked the best. She had gathered five bunches, intent on picking a bunch for each auntie, when she heard the snap.

She turned around, and saw her uncles and her father looming over her, their faces stony. "Dad?" she asked, a bit wary. "Hello?"

Four sets of eyes turned on her, and they all began to speak. "Today, a sacrifice shall be made, and three more in the time left in the Old Year, in honour of the master. Innocent lives, all connected, shall be taken in order to restore his." They all drew long knives, each with a sparkling jewel set into the handle. "And it begins."

Dakota screamed, and struggled to stand. She was outnumbered, and therefore had only a slight chance of escaping. Escaping… she slipped her small hand into her pocket.

She grinned, and the four men stopped, all confused. "Wingardium Leviosa," she shouted, flicking her wand. Terra cotta flowerpots that stood four feet high were levitated, and unceremoniously dropped on their heads. Once they had fallen, Dakota leapt over their prone forms, and ran. She ran through the woods, tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't dare look back; she didn't want to know how ineffective her levitating charm had been. Reaching a small hill, she climbed uphill as fast as she could, her feet numbing from the cold snow. When she reached the top, she stopped, gasping for breath. The manor was at the bottom. Where things would be safe.

This thought giving her a little hope, she took off again, gaining speed as she neared the bottom. She pushed through the heavy oak doors, and promptly slipped on the clean tile floor.

"Miss, why are you all dirt and…is that fertiliser I smell?" Svetlana stooped over her, her grey eyes concerned.

"Svetlana, Daddy said I could go back to Hogwarts," Dakota said quickly. "He told me that I don't need to be here with you guys. He told me that I could go back to my friends."

"Uh-huh," Svetlana said, looking thoroughly unconvinced. "And that's why you smell like fertiliser?"

"He told me to visit the greenhouse," Dakota explained.

"And where is he?" Svetlana pressed, eying her charge suspiciously.

Dakota smiled innocently. "Hunting." _For me, _she mentally added.

"I see," Svetlana said. She helped the young girl to her feet. "Are you packed?"

"Uh-huh," Dakota nodded quickly. "It's basically stuff I didn't wear there anyway," she added, hoping she sounded innocent. "Saris and stuff that Mum made me pack."

Svetlana nodded, and walked Dakota to the east wing, towards her bedroom and the library, where Dakota would Floo to Hogwarts. Dakota dashed into her room, scooped up the necklace that Harry had given her, and a few books, and ran back into the library, glancing over her shoulder worriedly.

"Okay, I'm ready," Dakota announced. "Bye, Svetlana. See you at summer." She accepted a small hug from her nurse, and a pinch of Floo powder. "Professor Dumbledore's office!" As soon as she felt the fire envelope her, Dakota breathed a sigh of relief.

The walls of the fireplace stopped moving, and Dakota stepped out gingerly. Before her, the headmaster sat at his desk, feeding his pet phoenix happily.

"Professor!" cried Dakota, running towards him. The phoenix gave a loud hoot, and took off in a flurry of feathers.

"Miss Williams," Dumbledore said sharply, standing as well. "You aren't due to come back until next week, after the New Year. Has there been a problem?"

"No," Dakota croaked. She had been about to tell him what had happened, but couldn't bring herself to do it. Surely he'd think she were round the bend. "Mum said I could come back early, that's all."

The headmaster levelled her with a calculating stare. Finally, he sighed, and said, "My dear, if something has happened, and you have assured me otherwise, I know, that something should be told. It could help. Even if it is not an adult, but a trusted student, that could be the difference between the positive and the negative outcomes."

Dakota gaped at him.

"You may carry on to Gryffindor Tower," Dumbledore said gently. "You don't have to attend the last class of the day if you don't wish."

"Thanks, Professor," Dakota mumbled, exiting the office quickly. She urged the staircase to go quickly- all she wanted was to be back with her friends, none of whom wanted to kill her, she supposed.

As soon as she left, the crimson phoenix fluttered back down to perch on the weary wizard's arm. "You know, Fawkes, I didn't think he had it in him," Dumbledore said, running an aged finger under the magnificent birds' chin. "He still doesn't."

* * *

A/N: Creepy. **I know, innit?** Anyway, this is where creepier stuff begins to happen. **And we haven't been writing creepily all along?** Creepily is a word? Sniggers **I'll have you know, it is!** Whatever. **Review!** –The Still Notably Trying to Get to the Good Parts Before Half-Blood Prince Prints, Siaryst-Dufoli. 

P.S. If anyone's confused, please tell us. We'll try to explain it to you (if we think it's been explained in the chapter) or we'll work an explanation into the plot. Oui? **This is your chance to be part of the three-ring circus that happens every time we write a chapter!** Siaryst… **Oops, gotta go!**


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